Inferno
by TheDarkLord'sMistress
Summary: Third in the Everybody's Darling series. Even the smallest spark can ignite an inferno. Is Primrose really ready to burn Panem to the ground and build anew from ashes?
1. Chapter 1

_Okay I'll say it upfront and please take it seriously: This installment is much more messed up than the first two. There, I felt it was just canon-typical violence. This is... well, it's much worse than the first two and I think it might be worse than Mockingjay, too, so **please **take the rating seriously._

_There will be many upsetting subjects discussed or alluded to, including contemplated and attempted suicide, sexual violence and varying methods of torture. (then again, most of that was very much alluded to in Mockingjay, so maybe I'm being overly cautious... might still be canon-typical horror, then) _

_I won't go into detail with anything, but be aware that it will be mentioned. This mostly applies for later chapters, but I just want you to be aware. Most such chapters/paragraphs can probably be skimmed or skipped without missing _too much _plot so yeah. Maybe it's not even as bad as I think it is, I've read much more upsetting stuff. But I just want everyone to be safe, so yeah..._

_Also, character death galore, but nothing new there._

_If mention of selfharm might be triggering to you, please proceed with caution as it is mentioned/implied from this chapter forward. _

_*Effie voice* And now, welcome, welcome, to _Inferno.

_)o(_

I make my round of the hospital almost mechanically, day after day, shadowing my mother from bed to bed or deviding patients between us. They offered a 'real' doctor for me to assist, as they see my mother as more of a nurse, a ways of starting my medical training, but I turned them down. I don't want to owe these people anything. I don't want them to think they're forgiven for not saving more of those in Twelve. Most of all, I don't want a load of strangers treating our wounded. They're here, of course, and they're helping, doing their best. But I can see it in the eyes of everyone from Twelve that it's a relieve when my mother or I are the ones to take care of them.

There's so much pain and suffering around me, I wonder how any of us can even bare it. But I suppose it's as Haymitch said when I visited him in the room he's confined to while in withdrawl: We're survivors, we grit our teeth, soldier on and stay alive.

He was refering to the Victors, really, but I guess it applies to everyone here.

I move to the next bed and a small smile steals its way onto my face at the sight of Laureen Mellark and her baby. I missed the birth but my mum was there to deliver the little girl last night."Hey, you two. How's the little lady doing?"

"She's perfect,"Laureen replies, tearing her gaze from her daughter to look at me."They say we can move to our compartment tomorrow. Rye'll even get special leave to help get her settled in."

"That's great,"I say, even though I can't help thinking how silly the schedules on everyone's arm are. You even get time allotted to see your own newborn daughter... But, on the other hand, the people in Thirteen are almost obsessive in the way they take care of children and young mothers, so they aren't all bad. A refugee from Ten, Dalton, leaked the real motive to me. "They need you. Me. They need us all. Awhile back, there was some sort of pox epidemic that killed a bunch of them and left a lot more infertile. New breeding stock. That's how they see us."

Back in Ten, he'd worked on one of the beef ranches, maintaining the genetic diversity of the herd with the implantation of long-frozen cow embryos. He's very likely right about Thirteen, because there don't seem to be nearly enough kids around. But so what? We're not being kept in pens, we're being trained for work, the children are being educated. Those over fourteen have been given entry-level ranks in the military and are addressed respectfully as "Soldier" and so am I, even though I'm technically too young. Perks of being the symbol of rebellion, I guess. Every single refugee was granted automatic citizenship by the authorities of Thirteen. Still, something about the structures here and especially about their President gives me the creeps. So far, I have managed to get around any real meeting with her by citing the injured, but I think her patience is wearing thin, especially because so far, Olive is being anything but cooperative from what I've gathered.

"Would you like to hold her?"Laureen offers and I accept, settling down on the edge of the bed and letting Laureen help me settle the tiny infant in my arms. I cradle her against my chest carefully, staring at her in awe. She's absolutely perfect and I can't help myself, I carefully rearrange her blankets so I can count her fingers and toes. Laureen laughs lightly."I did that already. All where it should be."

I look up with a sheepish grin."Good. Does she have a name yet?"

The young mother nods, tears springing to her eyes."Peetra. Peetra Elisabeth Mellark."

Named for two people she'll never meet, Rye's brother and Laureen's mother, an uncle and a grandmother dead before she was even born; just like the rest of her family, except her parents and uncle Taftan. And with that, she still has more left than most people from my home district. I swallow hard around the sudden tightness in my throat, gently brushing my fingers through the baby's blonde curls."I like it."

I hand the little girl back to her mother because I can't look at her anymore, don't trust myself to hold her any longer. I leave the hospital and sink to the floor in the first empty corridor I can find. It seems strange that there could be this new little life, this source of happiness in the world, when so much has been lost over the last two weeks. I curl into a ball on the cold floor, my breathing erratic. Fifteen days since the Capitol took my sister and destroyed my home. Fifteen days since Livia's dad and both of Estelle's parents died. I dig my fingernails into my forearms. Fifteen days since Beetee, Wiress and Chaff arrived on the hovercraft without the other victors and Effie. I feel the first tears stinging in my eyes even as I'm willing myself to keep calm, to stop replaying everything in my mind. Thirteen days since Madge's mother died on the operating table. Ten days since we had to take Carwyn Cartwright's arm because the burns and subsequent infection were too severe. A sob tears from my throat and I press my nails into my skin harder. Eight days since Glamour woke from her coma and had to be dosed with morphling because she wouldn't stop screaming. Six days since they executed Cinna and Portia for the whole country to see. I feel my skin break and the small trickle of blood gives me an odd sense of relief. I can't stop sobbing, though. Five days since Finnick stopped eating and they had to restrain him to stop him from doing worse. Three days since I stopped taking their pills and since I last slept for more than an hour.

A hand on my shoulder jerks me back into the here and now. I manage to choke back a scream and realise that it's Rory. He turns my arms over gently and frowns at the bloodied, raised welts my nails left there, but doesn't say anything about it. Sometimes I can't tell if he's scared for me or of me.

"Primmie,"he says gently,"They decided. You've got clearance to go to Twelve."

_)o(_

_Thanks again for all the name-ideas but I couldn't decide so I went with something completely different ha_


	2. Chapter 2

I stare at my feet, watching as a fine layer of ash settles on my shoes. All that is left of what once used to be my home is a charred heap of bricks that must have once be the chimney.

I grab for Rory's hand, glad he agreed to come along with me. I don't think I could have managed by myself. I'm still not sure coming was a good idea.

The authorities in District Thirteen certainly didn't think so. They were against my coming back. They viewed it as a costly and pointless venture, given that at least a dozen invisible hovercrafts are circling overhead for my protection and there's no intelligence to be gained. But I insisted, made it a condition of my cooperating with any of their plans. Half because I felt I needed to see this all for myself, to really understand that it actually happened, and half because I didn't think they'd agree and I was stalling for time. I have a very terrifying suspicion that whatever I'll do will be taken out on Katniss. But if I do nothing, there's no chance of getting her back, either. I need more time to decide what to do. Or maybe have Haymitch come out of isolation and tell me what to do, I don't even know how to decide something this big.

Surprisingly and annoyingly quickly, Plutarch Heavensbee, the Head Gamemaker who had organised the rebels in the Capitol, threw up his hands. "Let her go. Better to waste a day than another few weeks. Maybe a little tour of Twelve is just what she needs to convince her we're on the same side."

"You okay? Should I come down?"Gale's voice sounds through the headset the rebels insisted I wear. He's up in a hovercraft, watching us carefully, ready to swoop in if anything goes amiss.

"No,"I tell him, even as I tighten my hold on Rory's hand,"I'm fine. We're fine."

I throw my best friend a look that clearly asks if that is true, but he only nods, biting his lower lip. He used to do that during exams. The thought is oddly comforting.

We start walking. The summer's been scorching hot and dry as a bone. There's been next to no rain to disturb the piles of ash left by the attack. They shift here and there, in reaction to our footsteps. No breeze to scatter them. I keep my eyes on what I remember as the road, because when I first landed in the Meadow, I wasn't careful and I walked right into a rock. Only it wasn't a rock - it was someone's skull. It rolled over and over and landed faceup, and for a long time I couldn't stop looking at the teeth, wondering whose they were, thinking of how mine would probably look the same way under similar circumstances.  
Rory and I stick to the road out of habit, but it's a bad choice, because it's full of the remains of those who tried to flee. Some were incinerated entirely. But others, probably overcome with smoke, escaped the worst of the flames and now lie reeking in various states of decomposition, carrion for scavengers, blanketed by flies._I killed you_, I think as I pass a pile. _And you. And you.  
_Because if I had died in that arena like I was suppossed to, none of this would have happened. Two children would have been send off to die, year after year, but the district would not be reduced to rubble.  
The citizens of District Twelve had no organized resistance movement of their own. No say in any of this. They only had the misfortune to have me. Some survivors think it's good luck, though, to be free of District Twelve at last. To have escaped the endless hunger and oppression, the perilous mines, the lash of our final Head Peacekeeper, Romulus Thread. To have a new home at all is seen as a wonder since, up until a short time ago, we hadn't even known that District Thirteen still existed.  
But now it's become the home to almost two thousand refugees from Twelve. It's something like a wonder that so many survived, and most of the credit for the survivors' escape has landed squarely on Gale's shoulders, although he's loath to accept it. He keeps telling me Mayor Undersee warned him something would happen as soon as the Games had started and that he wouldn't have reacted as fast otherwise. He'd put his friends Bristle and Thom on alert, too, and Rory went to Taftan Mellark, who organised the escape of plenty of people from town along with his brother and the Cartwrights. Without them knowing to look out for anything odd in the Games, I'm not sure if even half the people would have made it. Because as soon as the Quarter Quell was over the electricity in District Twelve was cut, the televisions went black, and the Seam became so silent, people could hear one another's heartbeats. No one did anything to protest or celebrate what had happened in the arena. Yet within fifteen minutes, the sky was filled with hoverplanes and the bombs were raining down.  
It was Gale who thought of the Meadow, one of the few places not filled with old wooden homes embedded with coal dust. He herded those he could in its direction, including my mother. He formed the team that pulled down the fence - now just a harmless chain-link barrier, with the electricity off - and led the people into the woods. He took them to the only place he could think of, the lake my father had shown Katniss as a child and that she had later showed to Gale. And it was from there they watched the distant flames eat up everything they knew in the world.  
It wasn't long after my mother had managed to set up a rudimentary medical area that our hovercraft and the others from Thirteen arrived to take people on board. Plutarch has told me, in what he refered to as confidence, that they would have taken much longer to debate on whether or not to sent a rescue team if I hadn't thrown a fit, though he phrased it kinder. I'm not sure why he told me that, because it didn't exactly make me like him or Coin any more than before, rather the opposite.  
We make it through the wreckage of what used to be the Seam slowly, coming past places I once held dear and now only recognise because I know the streets so well by memory. Livia's house, where we used to skip rope outfront. Rory's home, or rather what's left of it. His grip on my hand tightens. The spot where the Seam meets town, where Mum used to wait when I insisted I was too old to be picked up right infront of school. The bakery, memories of Peeta's friendly, smiling face, Mr Mellark's wink when he pressed a still-warm cookie into my hands and put a finger to his lips, like it was the biggest secret we could share. Both dead.  
And then we reach the Victor's Village. I bit my lip."Could you wait here?"  
Rory nods, giving my hand a quick squeeze before letting go. I don't know why, but I feel like I have to do this alone.  
I move through the house as quietly as possible, reluctant to make any sound. I pick up a few remembrances: a photo of my parents on their wedding day, Dad's old jacket for Katniss, a silent promise to myself that I'll get her back, the family book of medicinal and edible plants.  
I move to my room to find more. There's something nagging at the back of my mind when I enter my room, but I pay it no attention. I need my camera, something, anything Cinna's clever hands crafted for me, the painting of Amber that Peeta made for me. I stare at it for a while before placing it into my bag. I came here looking for answers, and maybe this is one. I still haven't made the change I've vowed to my friend every night when I awake from my nightmares. To become the Mockingjay... I don't think I could do any more damage than I already have. So maybe I really should?  
I spin on my heel at the sound of a pityful miaow. In the doorway of my room, hesitant like I've never seen him, stands a cat I thought I'd never see again. "Buttercup," I say. Thousands of people are dead, but he has survived and even looks well fed. On what? He can get in and out of the house through a window we always left ajar in the pantry. He must have been eating field mice. I refuse to consider the alternative.  
As soon as I say his name, he comes up to me and rubs against my legs, purring happily. I gather him into my arms, burying my face into his fur, half laughing and half sobbing.  
Only now that some of my tension fades, I realise that I'm still more on edge then I should be. Then it hits me. It's the smell. Cloying and artificial. A dab of white peeks out of a vase of dried flowers on my dresser. I approach it with cautious steps. There, all but obscured by its preserved cousins, is a fresh white rose. Perfect. Down to the last thorn and silken petal.  
And I know immediately who's sent it to me.  
President Snow.  
When I begin to gag at the stench, I back away and clear out, pressing Buttercup so tighly against my chest he hisses in protest. How long has it been here? A day? An hour? The rebels did a security sweep of the Victor's Village before I was cleared to come here, checking for explosives, bugs, anything unusual. But perhaps the rose didn't seem noteworthy to them. Only to me.  
"Are you okay?"Rory asks as I leave the house and I can only nod. He immediately signals for the hovercrafts anyway, wrapping an arm around me."You're okay, Primmie. It's fine, we're getting outta here."  
Back on the hovercraft, I mostly ignore everyone's demands whether I'm all right, waving them off and contenting myself with petting Buttercup and leaning against Rory. The rose, I decide, will stay between me and President Snow. No one else would understand anyway.

_)o(_

_Just a heads up: I have to work next Sunday. Hopefully I'll be able to update anyways, but just in case I don't manage! See you soon, darlings xx_


	3. Chapter 3

From the landing pad, Rory walks me down a series of stairways to Compartment 307. We could take the elevator, only it reminds me too much of the one that lifted me into the arena. I'm having a hard time adjusting to being underground so much. But now, just for once, being underground feels comforting, rather than being something I have to push from my mind at all times to fight of the feeling of being burried alive. But after seeing what happend to my home, after finding that rose, I feel strangely safe the further from the surface I am, though it might have to do with the familiar weight of Buttercup in my arms and Rory by my side.

I hesitate at our door, giving Rory a worried look."What do I tell her? About Twelve?"

"She won't want to know about Twelve. Just tell her you're fine, that's what I'll tell Ma,"he says, reaching up to touch my cheek."That's all that matters, anyway."

"Thank you,"I whisper, leaning into his touch. He smiles and presses a quick kiss to my forehead."I'll see you at dinner, Primmie."

I take a deep breath and open the door. My mother is home for 18:00 - Reflection, a half hour of downtime before dinner. I see the concern on her face as she tries to gauge my emotional state. But then she catches sight of Buttercup, and any questions she may have had are washed away for the moment. I set him down on the floor and start emptying my bag."I brought some stuff from home."

My mother hugs the wedding photo tightly against her chest and then places it, along with the book of plants, on our government-issued chest of drawers. I hang my father's jacket on the back of a chair. For a moment, the place almost seems like home. Like Katniss might come home any second. So I guess the trip to Twelve wasn't a complete waste.

We're just heading down to dinner when Gale comes jogging up to us, pointing to his communicuff after a quick hello. Being granted a communicuff is a special privilege that's reserved for those important to the cause, a status Gale achieved by his rescue of the citizens of Twelve. "They want the two of us in Command," he says.

I resign myself to following him with a heavy sigh. They probably want an answer from me now, seeing as they let me go to Twelve. I'll be their Mockingjay, I think I always knew I wouldn't back out, but it still makes me feels sick to my stomach. My decisions, my actions will affect the lives of others, as the bombing of Twelve made painfully clear. Most of all, I worry for Katniss, Madge and Effie. They're the Capitol's most obvious targets if - when - I step out of line. I dig my nails into my palm in an attempt to calm myself, ground myself in the moment.  
Gale holds the door for me and I slip into Command, the high-tech meeting/war council room complete with computerised talking walls, electronic maps showing the troop movements in various districts, and a giant rectangular table with control panels I'm not supposed to touch. No one notices me, though, because they're all gathered at a television screen at the far end of the room that airs the Capitol broadcast around the clock. I'm thinking I might be able to slip away when Plutarch, whose ample frame has been blocking the television, catches sight of me and waves urgently for me to join them. I reluctantly move forward, trying to imagine how it could be of interest to me. It's almost always the same. War footage. Propaganda. Replaying the bombings of District Twelve. An ominous message from President Snow. Once, it was so much worse than that. Unbidden, the images flood back into my mind.

_The Victors' Village in Four. The Peacekeepers advancing, the victors, their spouses, and older children blocking their path, refusing to hand over one of their own even as the guns are trained on them. As they are hopelessly outnumbered. As they are threatend with being shot. The Head Peacekeeper having enough, a cruel smile on his face as he speaks."Fine. Get their children."_

_The victors, one by one, giving in, stepping aside, some holding out until the first little girl is dragged from her homeby her hair, screaming for her mother. Then they all break away. Understandably._

_Annie Cresta's left, wide-eyed and shaking, with only an old woman by her side. I remember Mags from my Victory Tour, from the silly photoshoot with their oldest living victor and their youngest._

_There's no hint left of the kind, open smile now, as she's shielding the young woman as much as blocking her from stepping forward, even as Annie's begging and pleading with her to just save herself._

_For a moment, the Peacekeepers seem uncertain what to do, then Mags whistles Rue's four-note-tune and without further warning, the Head Peacekeeper aims and shoots. They take Annie away, covered in blood and screaming, screaming, screaming._

_The transmission gives out at the same time as Finnick's knees._

_"She was as good as his family,"Cashmere tells me later._

So it's a relief, almost entertaining to see Caesar Flickerman, the eternal host of the Hunger Games, with his painted face and sparkly suit, preparing to give an interview. Until the camera pulls back and I see that his guest is Katniss.

I push my way to the front of the room until I'm right at the screen. She looks healthy and unharmed. Her skin is glowing, flawless, in that full-body-polish way. It feels less real than the images my nightmares conjured, of her beaten and bloodied and barely alive. And yet there she is. I reach out to touch the screen, her name hardly even a whisper on my lips. I feel a shaking hand settle on my shoulder and don't have to turn to know it's Gale.

Caesar settles himself more comfortably in the chair across from my sister and gives her a long look."So... Katniss... Welcome back."

Her smile is more a grimace but she tries hard to hide it, I can tell."I bet you thought you'd done your last interview with me, Caesar."

"I confess, I did," says Caesar. "The night before the Quarter Quell...well, who ever thought we'd see you again? You seemed quite determined to sacrifice yourself so Miss Madge Undersee could survive."

"Yes, that's the plan,"my sister replies. Her choice of words doesn't go unnoticed by me and I throw Gale a quick look. He looks as if he's going to be sick, but there is hope in his eyes. So he caught it, too. _That's the plan._ Present tense. Letting us know two things: Madge is alive and Katniss is doing what they tell her to keep it that way.

Caesar leans in a little."But other people had plans as well."

Katniss only nods, frowning as if she's angry or has forgotten what she's suppossed to do.

"Why don't you tell us about that last night in the arena?" Caesar prompts her gently. "Help us sort a few things out."

My sister nods but takes her time speaking, seeming to turn the words over in her mind, careful to say the right things. "That last night... to tell you about that last night... well, first of all, you have to imagine how it felt for us, how it felt in the arena. It was like being an insect trapped under a bowl filled with steaming air. And all around you, there's death, there's the jungle... green and alive and ticking. That giant clock ticking away your life. Every hour promising some new horror. You have to imagine that in the past two days, fifteen people have died - some of them defending you. At the rate things are going, the last eight will be dead by morning. Save one. The victor. And your plan is that it won't be you. Never was going to be you."

She paints a picture with words, in a way Katniss never could have. If I hadn't suspected it all to be scripted before, I'd know now. My sister does not have such a way with words.

"Once you're in the arena, the rest of the world becomes very distant," she continues. "All the people and things you loved or cared about almost cease to exist. The pink sky and the monsters in the jungle and the tributes who want your blood become your final reality, the only one that ever mattered. As bad as it makes you feel, you're going to have to do some killing, because in the arena, you only get one wish. And it's very costly."  
"It costs your life," says Caesar.  
"Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people?" says Katniss. "It costs everything you are."  
"Everything you are," repeats Caesar quietly.  
A hush has fallen over the room, and I can feel it spreading across Panem. A nation leaning in toward its screens. Because no one has ever talked about what it's really like in the arena before.  
Katniss goes on."I was only thinking of the plan. Keep Madge alive, that was the only thing that mattered. And the idea with the salt water, the lighting – it seemed so mad it just might work. When that wire was cut, everything just went insane. I can only remember bits and pieces. Everyone was screaming, nothing was the way it was suppossed to be. And then I had that arrow and the forcefield... blew out."  
"You blew it out,"Caesar corrects her, not unkindly."You do know that, don't you? You blew out the forcefield."  
"I didn't know,"Katniss snaps."None of us understood that plan. I don't think Curie even understood it." That's a blatant lie but Caesar doesn't challenge her on it. "They tricked us. We didn't know _anything_."  
"When you say 'we', you surely can't mean to include your sister?"he presses."She disappeared right before everything went awry. You've seen the footage, she left the building of her own free will."  
"Of course she'd follow Haymitch,"Katniss all but hisses,"He's her freaking mentor, he's suppossed to help her. They tricked her, too. They kidnapped her."  
"All right. It just looks suspicious," says Caesar. "As if she was part of the rebels' plan all along."  
Now Katniss is on her feet, getting right into Caesar's face, her arms trapping him in his chair."Yeah? So it was her plan to leave me for dead? To trigger the bombing?" She's yelling now. "She didn't know, Caesar! None of us knew anything!"  
Caesar places his hand on Katniss's shoulder in a gesture that's both self-protective and conciliatory. "Okay, Katniss, I believe you."  
"Good." She steps back, slumps into her chair, looking distraught.  
Caesar pats her shoulder. "We can stop now if you want."  
"Was there more to discuss?" says Katniss wryly.  
"I was going to ask your thoughts on the war, but if you're too upset..." begins Caesar.  
"Oh, I'm not too upset to answer that." Katniss takes a deep breath and then looks straight into the camera. "I want everyone watching - whether you're on the Capitol or the rebel side - to stop for just a moment and think about what this war could mean. For human beings. We almost went extinct fighting one another before. Now our numbers are even fewer. Our conditions more tenuous. Is this really what we want to do? Kill ourselves off completely? In the hopes that - what? Some decent species will inherit the smoking remains of the earth?"  
"I don't really...I'm not sure I'm following..." says Caesar.  
"We can't fight one another, Caesar," Katniss explains, sounding as if she's reciting something she learned by heart. Or maybe it just seems like that to me because I know her so well. "There won't be enough of us left to keep going. If everybody doesn't lay down their weapons - and I mean, as in very soon - it's all over, anyway."  
"So...you're calling for a cease-fire?" Caesar asks.  
"Yes. I'm calling for a cease-fire," says Katniss tiredly. "Now why don't we ask the guards to take me back to my quarters so I can build another hundred card houses?"  
Caesar turns to the camera. "All right. I think that wraps it up. So back to our regularly scheduled programming."

_)o(_

_woah whoops three chapters in and I already killed Mags_

_and not even on screen, in a flashback..._

_then again, I killed Cinna and Portia in something that barely qualifies as a sentence so ha whoops_

_I'm a piece of shit_


	4. Chapter 4

Even though Katniss is no longer on screen, I remain where I am, watching a Capitol woman read a list of expected shortages with much more interest than this warrants. I know that everyone is waiting for my reaction to that interview. I can't process this all so quickly. Seeing Katniss, alive and well, makes my heart soar with relieve yet there's the undeniable complicity with the Capitol now that she's called for a cease-fire. Oh, of course she made it sound as if she were condemning both sides in the war. But at this point, with only minor victories for the rebels, a cease-fire could only result in a return to our previous status. Or worse.

Behind me, I can hear the accusations building. The words traitor, liar, and enemy bounce off the walls.

"Are you all idiots?"Gale snaps, loud enough to make most of the room fall silent."That was obviously scripted, you morons. She didn't have a choice."

Coin raises an eyebrow at him but shows no other sign of... well, of anything, really. Her voice is iritatingly calm and emotionless when she speaks."You speak when you are spoken to, Soldier Hawthorne. And mind your tone."

"He's right, tough,"I say, the first time I'm actually directly addressing the president of Thirteen."They made her say that. It didn't even sound like her. I mean, come on, how thick can you get? She's being threatened. Her friends are being threatened. You can't leave her for dead and then blame her for trying to stay alive."

"She has done a lot of damage,"Coin intones, still so annoyingly calm that a surprisingly large part of me wants to punch her in the face."Most of the rebels will dismiss what she said immediately, of course. But there are districts where the resistance is shakier. The cease-fire's clearly President Snow's idea. But it seems so reasonable coming out of your sister's mouth."

"She doesn't really know – If she'd seen – "I trail off, realising they don't really care about anything I have to say. I turn to Celeste Horan and Plutarch Heavensbee, hoping for some sympathy or at least a more practical approach than Coin's damning stubbornness."We need to do damage control. Interviews, maybe. Get Finnick on camera or Cashmere or me or show them Twelve."

They nod to this but I know they only want to hear five words from me: _I will be the Mockingjay._ And I do want to say them, but something in me is still fighting it. I settle for five different words."I want to see Olive."

The look Coin gives me makes the word icy seem not cold enough."You are in no position to make demands, Soldier Everdeen."

I swallow hard, balling my hands to fists in hopes of keeping them from shaking. The room is full of the most important people here, and almost all of them are loyal to Coin above all else. But they're judging _my sister _when they're the ones who need something from me. And I'll either get all or nothing at this point. I glance at Gale and he nods, mouth set into a thin line. That decides it, then.

"Except I am, actually,"I say, as calmly as I can manage."I kick-started this whole rebellion thing. Either the rebels see me on your side, another side or they don't see me at all. Which will only lead them to accept that you must have, indeed, kidnapped me. How do you think that'll work out for you?" I don't pause long enough for anyone to challenge what I'm saying."And one word from me, you lose Haymitch, which costs you Chaff and Finnick at the very least." Now I'm mostly bluffing, but there's some truth to my words nontheless. Finnick is a wreck and looks to his friends to tell him what to do, too worried out of his mind to decide the simplest things for himself."Gale's only in as long as I am. Our district's people will question it if he stops supporting you. Then you either deal with that or throw them out. Both'll make you not exactly look good. And you said it yourself, there are districts where the resistance is shaky. I'm not saying I can definitely get Olive to cooperate, but I'm not going to make it worse."

My words are followed by a resounding silence. And then Coin laughs."It's starting to become clear what you see in her, Plutarch. Boggs, take Soldier Everdeen to the Kentwell girl."

I want to ask for Gale to come with me but I have a feeling that I've pushed my luck enough for one day, so I quietly follow the man out of Command and along multiple corridors. We end up infront of another medical tract. Thirteen has atleast four of these I know of; they're divided into severity of the medical conditions and things like pre- or post-operation. I also suspect that they want proper quaratine spaces in case of another epidemic. This tract I haven't been in yet, which is probably why I have yet to see Olive.

"I'll leave you here, Soldier,"Boggs says."Unless you need help finding your way back?"

I smile at him."No, I'm okay. Thanks."

He nods and leaves me to enter the room by myself. There's not a lot of people here and I spot Olive almost instantly. She sits propped up against a bunch of pillows and squints at me as I come closer."Everdeen? That you?"

"Yeah, it's me,"I reply. Olive reaches out to tug on one of my braids, frowning."It is, isn't it? You're real."

I pry my hair out of her grasp."Are you okay?"

"I think so. But who knows, really." She shrugs, holding her arm out to me so I can see the medical bracelet she's wearing."Mentally disoriented. And they're giving me medicine for pain and my – ah, what do they call them? _Moods._" She puts the last word in airquotes."I think it's code for throwing stuff at nurses. And doctors. And anyone who tries to convince me to be some kind of symbol or whatever. Either way, it makes me see things."

"Sounds crap,"I say and she shrugs again."Yeah, mostly. But I had a two hour conversation with Clove before I remembered she's dead. That was pretty nice."

I don't know how to react to that, so I just pull up a chair and sit down next to her bed."Well, I'm pretty sure I'm real. Did anyone tell you what's going on?"

"Roughly,"she says."We're in Thirteen, my family isn't, they fucked up our rescue and left Curie behind. Plus your sister and the rest. Then they proceeded to drug me senseless. Now I'm supposed to play nice and smile into a few cameras."

"I think you should do it,"I tell her."Tomorrow morning, I'm going to agree to be the Mockingjay."  
"Because you want to or because you feel forced into it?" she asks. Now it's my turn to shrug."Want to, I guess. I feel I should. I want to stop the Games. Help defeat Snow. I figure you'd want that, too."  
Olive hesitates but then nods."Yeah. It's just – everyone held in the Capitol, everyone back home in Two... I saw what they did to your district. I guess Two isn't expendable like Twelve was, but still. Even if we win, I don't know what they'll do. We know everyone calls us Capitol lapdogs."  
I've had that thought before myself, though it was rather in regards to Effie and, in the last hour, Katniss. I'm sure Coin has her own brand of justice and I'm not sure I'll like it."I'm important. We're both important. Important people usually get what they want."  
"You're thinking we should make a list of demands,"she says."That's actually pretty good. Getting me out of here would be point one. They say I'm not stable enough to live alone, but no one'll have me. They packed Glamour in with Demeter two days ago, so I can't go there. I apparently give her panic attacks or whatever."  
"You did almost kill her, you know,"I remind her."Put her in a coma, actually."  
She waves me off impatiently."Arena, Prim. Can't hold it against me. What happens in the Games, stays in the Games."  
I'm taken aback by how calloused she is, even now, but decide to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume it's her way of coping. Besides, I need her. Not to mention that I remember all too well how horrifying it was to be confined to my bed and drugged into submission right after my games. I give Olive a small smile."You can come live with me and my mum. I'll tell the chief physician right now, then we can get our list started tonight."

_)o(_

_I missed Olive :3_

_[_the bitch is back_ playing in the distance]_


	5. Chapter 5

In the morning, I see that 7:00 - Breakfast is directly followed by 7:30 - Command and it's the same on Olive's arm. They were happy to move her to my room instantly, probably figuring out that I'd convinced her to do what they want from us.

At the dining hall, I flash my schedule, which includes some kind of ID number, in front of a sensor. As I slide my tray along the metal shelf before the vats of food, I see breakfast is its usual dependable self - a bowl of hot grain, a cup of milk, and a small scoop of fruit or vegetables. Today, it appears to be grated apple. All of it comes from Thirteen's underground farms. Very impressive but also kind of disgusting, to be honest. Olive and I sit at the table assigned to the Everdeens and the Hawthornes and some other refugees. I shovel my food down, wishing for seconds, but there are never seconds here, which is harsh after a year of eating on a Victor's winnings. But they have nutrition down to a science. You leave with enough calories to take you to the next meal, no more, no less. Serving size is based on your age, height, body type, health, and amount of physical labor required by your schedule. The people from Twelve are already getting slightly larger portions than the natives of Thirteen in an effort to bring us up to weight. I guess bony soldiers tire too quickly. It's working, though. In just a month, we're starting to look healthier, particularly the kids.

Rory sets his tray beside me and leans around me to look at Olive, smiling politely."Hi, you must be Olive. Good to see you finally made it out of the hospital."

"Thanks,"she says after scrutinising him for a few seconds, probably trying to decide if he's being nice or is somehow mocking her."And you're... Rory? That right?"

He nods happily and then turns to Posy who's demanding his attention. Gale sits down across from me and I note his empty wrist."So they took your communicuff?"

He grins wrily."Yeah, for mouthing off. Or insubordination, they called it. I don't care."

"This food is disgusting,"Olive suddenly says apropos of nothing."Give me the list."

I sigh in exasperation."Don't be silly. You're not putting better food on our demands."

"I was going to put outdoor privileges,"she replies as if that were obvious,"I hunt, you gather. Make the food halfway decent. Put it at three."

I consider this and realise it's a good idea. Anything that gets me out of this giant tomb is good with me. I look at Rory and Gale."I'll put you in on that, too. And Gale, if it's okay with you, I'm going to ask them to make you my personal guard. They can't throw you out of any meetings or anything."

My sister trusts him more than anyone in the world and I know they'd never agree to let me have Rory tag along, so this is the next best thing. Provided he's okay with it.

"Sounds good,"he replies. I'm glad he accepted this so quickly, but I do have another reason for wanting him on my team. I'd rather keep it to myself, really, as he has persistently refused to speak of either Katniss or Madge with me. Still, I can only imagine how I'd feel if I had known even less about the rebels' plans and even know, I'm unhappy with how much seems to be done behind my back. I don't want to do that to Gale, keep him in the dark and use him. I clear my throat awkwardly."I want you in whatever footage they'll broadcast, too. Show you're important to our cause. Madge - " He freezes, all colour fading from his face as he stares at me. I force myself to continue."Right now, she's really just a pressure point to get Katniss to do what they want. That won't keep her alive forever. Gloss for Cashmere, Katniss for me, Curie for Wiress. That's how it works. You need to be seen as more important. Then they can't kill her."

It takes him a few seconds to react, but then he gives a jerky nod in response. I don't push the subject further as he returns his attention to his food, leaning in to shovel his portion of apple half on Rory's and half on my plate. I frown but greedily tuck in anyways."Bet you that's illegal or something."

"What can they do? They've already got my communicuff," says Gale dryly. Olive takes my bowl and scrapes it clean."They could always shoot you."

I elbow her in the ribs, seriously hoping she doesn't actually have a point."Stop being such a ray of sunshine, will you?"

Just then, a bell signals the end of our eating shift. Olive gets up and so do I."You coming with us, Gale?"

He checks his arm but then nods anyway."Sure, why not. Who cares about Nuclear History class, anyways?"

By the time we get to Command, Coin, Plutarch, and all their people have already assembled. The sight of Gale raises some eyebrows, but no one throws him out. He and Olive flank me like they actually are my bodyguards and I realise I find that oddly comforting.

I clear my throat, very aware of everyone's eyes on me."Olive and I have decided it is time to cooperate. I'll be your Mockingjay."

I wait so they can make their sounds of relief, congratulate, slap one another on the back. Coin stays as impassive as ever, watching me, unimpressed.

"But we do have some conditions." I smooth out the list and begin. We even rated them, hoping to make them more ready to agree by starting with the small things."My family gets to keep our cat." My tiniest request sets off an argument. The Capitol rebels see this as a nonissue - of course, I can keep my pet - while those from Thirteen spell out what extreme difficulties this presents. Finally it's worked out that we'll be moved to the top level, which has the luxury of an eight-inch window aboveground. Buttercup may come and go to do his business. He will be expected to feed himself. If he misses curfew, he will be locked out. If he causes any security problems, he'll be shot immediately. I want to protest that, but I realises it's as good as it's going to get, so I agree.

I look at the next point on my list."I want Gale with me whenever possible. He's to act as my guard and adviser. He's to be included in whatever footage of me allows for it."

They nod, and Fulvia Cardew actually seems delighted, mumbling something about 'camera ready faces'.

"We want to go out in the woods. To hunt and gather. This includes Rory and Gale Hawthorne," I say. This gives everyone pause.

"We won't go far. We'll use our own weapons. You can have the meat and everything else for the kitchen," adds Gale. He glances at me."Or for the medical units, if applicable."

They still hesitate, but Olive chimes in before they can say no."It's just...I can't breathe shut up here like a...I would get better, faster, if...I could hunt."

Plutarch begins to explain the drawbacks here - the dangers, the extra security, the risk of injury - but Coin cuts him off. "No. Let them. Give them two hours a day, deducted from their training time. A quarter-mile radius. With communication units and tracker anklets. What's next?"

"We want full access to every and all strategy meetings, documents past and present, and be included in all decisions that concern more than Thirteen,"I say. Again, it's Coin who agrees, looking almost smug."Of course. In fact, we welcome your wish to be involved, Soldiers."

I swallow hard before continuing. The next two points are the most important ones, yet also the ones I think they're most likely to reject."When the war is over, if we've won, those held in the Capitol will be pardoned." Dead silence. I take this as a cue to continue. "No punishment will be inflicted. They will be granted immunity. This goes for, but is not limited to, Katniss Everdeen, Madge Undersee, Effie Trinket, Domitia and Remus Kentwell, Terra Hayden, Johanna Mason, Curie Plasmic, and Annie Cresta."

We decided that we'd put the most important people in by name and Olive insisted on the phrasing, so Coin couldn't 'screw us over later'.

"No," says Coin flatly.  
"Yes," I shoot back. "It's not their fault you abandoned them. Who knows what the Capitol's doing to them?"  
"They'll be tried with other war criminals and treated as the tribunal sees fit," she says.  
Olive takes a step towards her, her voice even but somehow almost too calm."They will be granted immunity. You will hold yourself and your government responsible for their safety, or you'll find yourself someone else to do your propaganda. This is not optional, it is not negotionable. You agree, or Everdeen and I are out."  
"What do you say, President?" asks Plutarch. "You could issue an official pardon, given the circumstances. Half of them are not even of age, some are rebels, some both."  
She looks like she'd rather not, but Coin agrees.  
I nervously smooth out the paper again, fighting the urge to hand it to Olive. She came up with this one, but it's good and I'm in a better position to haggle. So I continue to talk."Regarding the victors outside the Capitol or atleast not in custody, we want them tried by a jury of their peers. That means the other victors, including myself, obviously."  
The 'no' doesn't come as a surprise."Victors do not recieve any special treatment. If anything, siding with the Capitol is more despicable after having survived the Games."  
"And you'd know that, would you?"I snap at Coin."Once in the Games, always in the Games. You don't know what it's like. You cannot know why we do what we do."  
She studies me and then a small smile spreads across her face."Very well. All victors left alive by the end of the war will be judge by a jury of their peers."  
The phrasing bothers me, but she's already continuing."Will that be all?"  
"One more thing,"I say."You will personally pledge all of this in front of the entire population of District Thirteen and the remainder of Twelve. Soon. Today. It will be recorded for future generations."  
"All right," Coin says finally. "But you'd better perform."  
"We'll perform when you've made the announcement," Olive says.  
"Call a national security assembly during Reflection today," she orders. "I'll make the announcement then."  
And just like that, we're done. Coin's eyes have flickered to her arm, the clock. She, too, has a schedule to adhere to. "I'll leave them in your hands, then, Plutarch." She exits the room, followed by her team, leaving only the two former Gamemakers, Fulvia, Gale, Olive, and myself.


	6. Chapter 6

_I know it isn't Sunday but it's FEBRUARY 14TH! do you know what that means? no, not Valentine's._

_Two years ago, I posted the first chapter of Everybody's Darling and one year ago, the last! This story is now two years old! And, as someone with a two-year-old nephew, I think that's a pretty huge thing!_

_in conclusion, this chapter can't wait til tomorrow ;)_

_)o(_

"Excellent. Excellent." Plutarch sinks down, elbows on the table, rubbing his eyes. "You know what I miss? More than anything? Coffee. I ask you, would it be so unthinkable to have something to wash down the gruel and turnips?"

"I know, it's the worst,"Olive drawls."You know what I miss more? My family. Y'know, those people you failed to save. So can we get on with this stupid rebellion so I can maybe get them back?"

Plutrach looks away abashedly."Ah, of course. My apologies." He reaches a hand out to the side, where Fulvia is already extending a large sketchbook bound in black leather. "You know in general what we're asking of you. I'm aware you have mixed feelings about participating. I hope this will help."

Plutarch slides the sketchbook across to me as Celeste hands a second directly to Olive. For a moment, I look at it suspiciously. Then curiosity gets the better of me. I open the cover to find a picture of myself, standing straight and strong, in a black uniform. Only one person could have designed the outfit, at first glance utterly utilitarian, at second a work of art. The swoop of the helmet, the curve to the breastplate, the slight fullness of the sleeves that allows the white folds under the arms to show. In his hands, I am again a mockingjay.  
"Cinna," I whisper.  
"Yes. He made me promise not to show you this book until you'd decided to be the Mockingjay on your own. Believe me, I was very tempted," says Plutarch. "Go on. Flip through." Then, to Olive he adds,"Portia did yours. I don't think you had the pleasure of meeting her but I do hope you'll like what she did."  
"Doesn't really matter, I'll wear it either way,"Olive says, the sketchbook still closed before her."She didn't let them see she was frightend."  
I bite my lip to stop myself from sobbing. I realise it's Olive's way of saying she respects the stylists and will not deny their final wish, their final design. And she's right. Portia and Cinna both stepped infront of the firing squad with their heads held high.

I turn the pages slowly, seeing each detail of the uniform. The carefully tailored layers of body armor, the hidden weapons in the boots, the medikit affixed to the side of the belt, the special reinforcements over my heart. On the final page, under a sketch of my mockingjay pin, Cinna's written, _I believe in you_.  
Olive's by now staring in fascination at Portia's sketches and after a few minutes wordlessly swaps our sketchbooks to look at my Mockingjay uniform. In turn, I slowly flip to the first page of her sketchbook, tracing the lines of Portia's design. Even if I hadn't been told, I would have recognised it as her work, could have picked it out of any as easily as Cinna's. The design is reminiscent of the chariot costumes of the tributes from Two in some aspects, sharing the hints to stories we've never heard in Twelve while they seem prominent in other districts and the Capitol. The golden breastplate is crafted with intricate designs of snakes, as is the handle of her axe, the red of the uniform under it the exact shade of blood. Where my outfit is sensible and functional, Olive's is a statement in and of itself.  
"It's inspired by the furies,"the girl from Two remarks when I look up."The goddessess of vengeance and retribution. Couldn't make more of an impact at home, really. We're raised on those stories. 'We are the children of eternal Night, and Furies in the underworld are called...We chase from home the murderers of men'."

"You're going to be the best-dressed rebels in history," says Gale with a smile, having studied the designs over my shoulder. I nod and turn to the fromer Gamemakers."So, what now?"  
"Our plan is to launch an Airtime Assault," says Celeste. "To make a series of what we call propos - which is short for 'propaganda spots' - featuring you two, and broadcast them to the entire population of Panem."  
"How? The Capitol has sole control of the broadcasts," says Gale.  
"But we have Beetee,"Plutarch replies."About ten years ago, he essentially redesigned the underground network that transmits all the programming. He thinks there's a reasonable chance it can be done. Of course, we'll need something to air. So, ladies, the studio awaits your pleasure." Plutarch turns to his assistant. "Fulvia?"  
"Plutarch and I have been talking about how on earth we can pull this off. We think that it might be best to build you, our rebel leaders, the faces of this cause, from the outside...in. That is to say, let's find the most stunning look possible, and then work your personality up to deserving it!" she says brightly.  
"You already have their uniforms," says Gale.  
"Yes, but is Olive scarred and bloody? Is Primrose glowing with the fire of rebellion? Just how grimy can we make them without disgusting people? At any rate, they have to be something. I mean, obviously this" - Fulvia moves in on me quickly, framing my face with her hands - "won't cut it." I jerk my head back reflexively while Olive sniggeres but Fulvia's already busy gathering her things. "So, with that in mind, we have another little surprise for you. Come, come."

She gives us a wave and we follow her and the ex-Gamemakers along. Olive sighs heavily."Holy crap, and here I thought my escort was bouncy. Are we rebels or the cheersquad?"  
"Bit of both, it seems,"I say as I wrap my arms tightly around the sketchbook and allow myself to feel hopeful. This must be the right decision. If Cinna wanted it.  
We board an elevator, and Plutarch checks his notes. "Let's see. It's Compartment Three-Nine-Oh-Eight." He presses a button marked 39, but nothing happens.  
"You must have to key it," says Celeste.  
Plutarch pulls a key attached to a thin chain from under his shirt and inserts it into a slot I hadn't noticed before. The doors slide shut. "Ah, there we are."  
The elevator descends ten, twenty, thirty-plus levels, farther down than I even knew District Thirteen went. I'm starting to feel panic creeping up inside of me and am beyond relieved when the elevator finally stops. It opens on a wide white corridor lined with red doors, which look almost decorative compared to the gray ones on the upper floors. Each is plainly marked with a number 3901, 3902, 3903 ...  
As we step out, I glance behind me to watch the elevator close and see a metallic grate slide into place over the regular doors. When I turn, a guard has materialised from one of the rooms at the far end of the corridor. A door swings silently shut behind him as he strides toward us.  
Plutarch moves to meet him, raising a hand in greeting, and the rest of us follow behind him. Something feels very wrong down here. It's more than the reinforced elevator, or the claustrophobia of being so far underground, or the caustic smell of antiseptic. My hands are instantly sweaty. One look at Gale's face and I can tell he senses it as well.  
"Good morning, we were just looking for - " Plutarch begins.  
"You have the wrong floor," says the guard abruptly.  
"Really?" Plutarch double-checks his notes. "I've got Three-Nine-Oh-Eight written right here. I wonder if you could just give a call up to - "  
"I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave now. Assignment discrepancies can be addressed at the Head Office," says the guard.  
It's right ahead of us. Compartment 3908. Just a few steps away. The door - in fact, all the doors - seem incomplete. No knobs. They must swing free on hinges like the one the guard appeared through.  
"Where is that again?" asks Fulvia.  
"You'll find the Head Office on Level Seven," says the guard, extending his arms to corral us back to the elevator.  
From behind door 3908 comes a sound. Just a tiny whimper. Like something a cowed dog might make to avoid being struck, only all too human and familiar. I instinctively step forward, more sensing than really hearing Olive hiss something behind me. Her sketchbooks clatters to the floor right infront of the guard. A second after he leans down to retrieve it, Gale leans down, too, intentionally bumping heads. "Oh, I'm sorry," he says with a light laugh, catching the guard's arms as if to steady himself, turning him slightly. In a split second, Olive's past him. She pushes open the door marked 3908 just as I catch up with her. And there they are. Half-naked, bruised, and shackled to the wall.  
My prep team.

_)o(_

_I'm not sure yet if this chapter is instead of tomorrow or in addition to, it depends on how much time I'll find to write tomorrow... Anyway, hope you enjoyed the anniversary chapter!_

_Thanks to all you lovely readers and reviewers, especially those who've stuck with me and Prim since the beginning :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Soooooo, turns out yesterday's chapter was in addition to today's :)_

_)o(_

The stink hits me hard. Even with the heavy antiseptic smell, the stink of unwashed bodies, stale urine, and infection breaks through.

Flavius and Octavia shrink back against the tiled walls like they're anticipating an attack and I half-turn to Olive, gesturing for her to step back. I can only hope they aren't afraid of me. They couldn't possibly, could they? But I can't even fathom what happened to them.

For answers, I cross to Venia, even as the guard's ordering me out. But by the shuffling that follows, I know Gale has somehow detained him.

I crouch down and take her icy hands, which clutch mine like vises.  
"What happened, Venia?" I ask, forcing myself to ban the tremor from my voice. I have to be strong for them. "What are you doing here?"  
"They took us. From the Capitol," she says hoarsely.  
Plutarch enters behind me. "What on earth is going on?"  
"Who took you?" I press her.  
"People," she says vaguely. "The night you disappeared."  
"We thought it might be comforting for you to have your regular team," Plutarch says behind me. "Cinna requested it."  
"Cinna requested _this_?" I snap at him. Because if there's one thing I know, it's that Cinna would never have approved the abuse of these three, who he managed with gentleness and patience. There's tears stinging in my eyes."Why are they being treated like criminals?"  
"I honestly don't know." There's something in his voice that makes me believe him, and the pallor on Fulvia's face confirms it. Plutarch turns to the guard, who's just appeared in the doorway with Gale right behind him. "I was only told they were being confined. Why are they being punished?"  
"For stealing food. We had to restrain them after an altercation over some bread," says the guard.  
Venia's brows come together as if she's still trying to make sense of it. "No one would tell us anything. We were so hungry. It was just one slice she took."  
Octavia begins to sob, muffling the sound in her ragged tunic. In that moment, I'm strangely reminded of Posy. I crawl across the floor to her shaking form. "Octavia?" I touch her and she flinches. I try again, my voice gentle, barely a whisper. "Octavia? It's going to be all right. I'll get you out of here, okay? It'll be all right, I promise."  
"This seems extreme," says Celeste, sounding as if she's about to be sick.  
"It's because they took a slice of bread?" asks Gale.  
"There were repeated infractions leading up to that. They were warned. Still they took more bread." The guard pauses a moment, as if puzzled by our density. "You can't take bread."  
I can't get Octavia to uncover her face, but she lifts it slightly. The shackles on her wrists shift down a few inches, revealing raw sores beneath them. "I'm bringing you to my mum." I address the guard. "Unchain them."  
The guard shakes his head. "It's not authorized."  
"Unchain them! Now!" I yell.  
This breaks his composure. Average citizens don't address him this way. "I have no release orders. And you have no authority to - "  
"Do it on my authority," says Plutarch. "We came to collect these three anyway. They're needed for Special Defense. I'll take full responsibility."  
The guard leaves to make a call. He returns with a set of keys. The preps have been forced into cramped body positions for so long that even once the shackles are removed, they have trouble walking. Gale, Plutarch, and I have to help them. Flavius's foot catches on a metal grate over a circular opening in the floor, and my stomach contracts when I think of why a room would need a drain. The stains of human misery that must have been hosed off these white tiles...  
In the hospital, I find my mother, the only one I trust to care for them.  
"Mummy,"I say, and I must sound as pityful as I feel because when she turns around, there's concern in her eyes before she even sees the three figures huddled behind me.  
It takes her a minute to place the three, given their current condition, but already she wears a look of consternation. And I know it's not a result of seeing abused bodies, because they were her daily fare in District Twelve, but the realization that this sort of thing goes on in Thirteen as well.  
No one interferes when she guides the trio into an examination room to assess their injuries. I follow after her, hesitating just long enough to see Olive and Gale take up a position outside the door, arms crossed and glowering at anyone within a five-foot radius.  
I'm so shaky that my mother finally takes a sponge and a flask of rubbing alcohol from my hands and orders me to let her do it by herself. I feel about as useful as I did after the brutal flogging Thread put Katniss through. But I know mum is right all the same. So I whisper reassurences, hold hands and clean my prep team's blood and grime coated faces as well as I can manage. They do not recoil from my touch anymore, at least.  
Then, finally, my mother decides that she's done, for now. I trail her out of the room to find the others waiting. "They'll be all right," Mum reports. "No permanent physical injuries."  
"Good. Splendid," says Plutarch. "How soon can they be put to work?"  
"Probably tomorrow," she answers, at the same time as I round on the former Gamemaker."_That's _your first question? What is wrong with you?"  
My mother pulls me against her, shushing me before continuing with a less friendly tone towards Plutarch."You'll have to expect some emotional instability, after what they've been through. They were particularly ill prepared, coming from their life in the Capitol."  
"Weren't we all?" says Plutarch, and he looks so distraught I almost feel bad for snapping at him. Almost.


	8. Chapter 8

The former Gamemakers decide that we'll get nowhere today, so we're release to our regular schedule. Olive, Gale and I head towards lunch in silence, leaving eachother to our dark thoughts. We run into the rest of the Hawthornes on the way and Hazelle eyes us with concern."Is everything alright?"

We must look about as glum as we feel, because even Posy stops chattering. Vick, taking one look at us, quickly assesses the situation and distracts his little sister. "Race you to the table,"he shouts, and they're off under much giggling and squealing on Posy's part.

"We're okay,"Gale says, causing his mother to raise her eyebrows, unconvinced. Olive laughs drily."Just realising what the hell we got ourselves into."

I shoot her a glare. She obviously has no concept of timing, or just doesn't care about other people's feelings. I suspect it might be both. I make myself smile and shrug."Just been a long day, and it's only lunch."

Gale forces a laugh and Hazelle drops the subject, though she remains sceptical. Rory indicates that we should drop back as we start moving again and I gladly accept.

"So, what really happened?"he asks quietly once his family and Olive are far enough ahead so they won't hear us anymore. And I tell him everything. By the time I'm done, there's hot tears streaming down my face and I'm digging my nails into my palm to feel something beside the anger, sorrow and gently uncurls my fist, brushes his thumb across the small bloody marks on my skin and laces our fingers together without comment, effectively stopping me from further hurting myself. Part of me wants to snap at him, for noticing, for anything, really, but I know it's just because I'm wound so tight right noiw and embarassed. I know I shouldn't be doing this to myself, but it gives me an ounce of control over something in my life and I find it hard to stop. As Rory doesn't mention it, I don't either, instead following up my retelling of today's horrifying events."It's a warning, hurting them. To the Capitol rebels as much as me. Don't get on Coin's bad side, don't think any status means anything."

"Being Captiol here is a liability, if anything,"Rory agrees."This – this is just more of the same, isn't it, Primmie?"

He's wide-eyed and afraid, but I'm not going to lie to him. Never have, never will. Even after my Games, I told him about every nightmare, every flashback, every panic attack in excrutiating detail. We have no secrets."Yeah. We're still fighting to stay alive. It's just not as simple, anymore. Hunger, other tributes, Snow. Those are enemies we know. Enemies everyone knows are the enemy. Here..."

I trail off, the truth too harsh right now. Rory must sense it, because he gently squeezes my hand and gives me a small smile."We've made it this far, haven't we?"

I only nod in return, not quite able to smile.

We head over to the table everyone's already having lunch at, where we're served bean and onion stew, a thick slice of bread, and a cup of water. After Venia's story, the bread sticks in my throat, so I slide the rest of it onto Rory's tray. None speaks much during lunch, not even Posy, but when our bowls are clean, Gale pulls up his sleeve, revealing his schedule. "I've got training next."  
"Ditto,"Olive says with a glance at her arm. I tug up my sleeve and hold my arm next to Gale's. "Me, too." I remember that training equals the woods now. I turn to Rory."What about you? We got clearance to go outside instead of training."  
He quickly checks and, with a grin like I haven't seen on his face in far too long, tells me our schedules match.

We go down to the armory where we're provided with weapons, a large burlap sack meant as a game bag, and a smaller one for me to gather herbs.

I tolerate having the tracker clamped to my ankle, even though it reminds me of how we could see Katniss and Madge's every move on our monitors during the Games, and try to look as if I'm listening when they explain how to use the handheld communicator. The only thing that sticks in my head is that it has a clock, and we must be back inside Thirteen by the designated hour or our hunting privileges will be revoked. This is one rule I think I will make an effort to abide.

We go outside into the large, fenced-in training area beside the woods. Guards open the well-oiled gates without comment. We would be hard-pressed to get past this fence on our own - thirty feet high and always buzzing with electricity, topped with razor-sharp curls of steel. We move through the woods until the view of the fence has been obscured. In a small clearing, we pause and drop back our heads to bask in the sunlight. I turn in a circle, my arms extended at my sides, revolving slowly so as not to set the world spinning.

The lack of rain I saw in Twelve has damaged the plants here as well, leaving some with brittle leaves, building a crunchy carpet under our feet. We take off our shoes. Mine don't fit right anyway, since in the spirit of waste-not-want-not that rules Thirteen, I was issued a pair someone had outgrown and I haven't quite grown into yet, so there's old paper with writing on stuffed into the tips. Some school kids old homework, if I had to guess.

We're going through the woods, Rory and I really just enjoying the fresh air and picking the occasional herb when we spot one, Gale and Olive doing the actual hunting."You're really good at this,"Gale tells her at some point. She grins at him."No need to sound so surprised. They have to teach us how to track and kill prey somehow, you know."

Gale's eyebrows shoot up. I guess, like me, he never really thought much about how the academies in the Career Districts work. "So they make you hunt for training? You hunt for sport?"

"Well, I sure as hell don't usually hunt for food,"Olive remarks."I'm really rich, you know."

She says it with a smile and Gale, after a second, gives her a small grin. Maybe he's remembering how well she got along with Madge. Or how she sobbed when she had to - when Amphitirte died. Either way, he doesn't hit her with a condescending remark like I'd have expected, so when Rory offers to let the two go off by themselves, I don't see a reason to object.

After scouring for plants for a while, Rory and I decide to set some snares for when we come back tomorrow, assuming we'll get time allotted again. Halfway through a snare, I become aware that my surroundings seem oddly fuzzy and my hands are shaking. I swallow hard, but don't really know what's wrong. Something's off but I can't put my finger on it. My head jerks up at a small sound to my left and I scream at the sight of the figure stepping out from between the trees.

I barely have time to get to my feet and fumble for a knife before strong arms wrap around me, restricting me.

_)o(_

_Can you say cliffhanger? lol see u next week_


	9. Chapter 9

_Sorry that there was no update last week! I was in hospital from Saturday til late Wednesday :( I posted it on tumblr but idk who of you might have seen? Anyway I didn't feel up to writing anything until today, sorry :( I feel so bad though, especially with the cliffie and all!  
_

_)o(_

I throw myself forward as hard as I can, trying to break loose from the arms wrapped around me. The hold doesn't budge even a little. Someone's saying my name but nothing but the girl walking towards me really registers. There's blood on the knife she's holding and on her hands. The knowledge where that blood comes from makes tears rise in my eyes and bile in my throat. _Don't make me cut you up like that bitch from Five. _

"Get away from me!"I scream, kicking and clawing at the person restraining me."Get off me, get her away! Peeta! Help me! _Peeta!_"

But no one comes to help me. Strangely, the girl from Two stops advancing, a look of confusion and then understanding on her face. The knife drops from her hold and she raises her hands in a gesture of apeacement, slowly stepping backwards.

_That's not right_. The thought pushes itself to the front of my mind through the haze of panic. I should be dead by now. And there's no sign of Cato. Why is she not attacking? _None of this is right_.

The screams die in my throat and the desperate pleas of a voice right next to my ear finally reach me."It's not real, Primmie, it's not real. It's just Olive. It's not real. We're in Thirteen."

"Olive,"I repeat, and the fight leaves my body."It's not real. Rory?"

I can feel him nod against the back of my head."I'll let you go now, okay?"

His grip has already loosend and I turn in his arms, burying my face against his chest."Don't. Don't let go."

We stand like that for a while as I match my breathing to Rory's, letting it guide me back away from the edge.

"I shouldn't have grabbed you,"he says after some time, voice as shaky as I still feel."It's just – you went for the knife and I didn't know what to do."

"I could've disarmed her, easy,"Olive says testily."You should've just let her come at me."

"And you holding her down would have helped how?"Rory shoots back."That would have just made it worse."

"What just happened?"Gale suddenly asks, reminding me he's here aswell. I twist in Rory's embrace to look at his brother."Flashback. Haven't had one this bad for a few months. I've just been on edge, with my prep team and all. The woods got me, I guess. Or the snare. And Olive - she, well -" I break of somewhat awkwardly.

The girl from Two supplies the answer without looking at any of us."I look like my sister. Who almost did her in. Covered in blood on top of that, well, what did we expect, really?"

She says it very flippantly but keeps her eyes fixed on the floor before abruptly turning away."I'll go clean the game."

"Think she's okay?"I ask, guilt mixing in with the onslaught of things I'm feeling. Rory lets out a shaky little laugh."I take it you're feeling better if you've already moved on to worrying about her. Are you okay?"

I shrug."Better. But not a word to anyone. They'll revoke our outdoor privileges if they find out."

After I made them both promise not to tell a soul, we decide to knock off to spend the remaining time by a pond that must be fed by an underground spring, since the water's cool and sweet. I stick a few mint leaves on my tongue, close my eyes, and lean back against a rock, soaking in the sounds, letting the scorching afternoon sun burn my skin, side by side with Rory while Gale and Olive clean the game.

Time passes peacefully, yet slightly uncomfortably after my flashback, with everyone acting as if they're treading on thin ice, especially Gale. Rory knows enough about my... _issues _to try for a feeling of normality and I guess Olive must be familiar with nightmares herself, but they are both still noticably on edge. Still, when we have to go back inside, I would have rather remained in the fresh air and sunlight.

We hand over what we found in the kitchen and then Olive and I go to the new compartment we were assigned so Buttercup could come and go. I lay down for what feels like a few seconds but when I wake up again, it is 17:15. I sit up in a daze when I hear an announcement for an assembly at Reflection time. I guess they must have announced it again and again all day long, as they call it a reminder. Olive's still conked out on her bed, and I decide to give her another half hour.

When it's time to wake her up, I pick up my pillow and throw it at her. Not the nicest way to rouse someone, but I'm unfamiliar with her nightmares and flashbacks as of yet. And indeed, she lunges forward only to realise there is no attacker to fend off.

Once she's properly awake, we go down to the Collective. I see my mother lead in a group of mobile patients, still wearing their hospital nightgowns and robes. Finnick stands among them, looking dazed but gorgeous. In his hands he holds a piece of thin rope, less than a foot in length, too short for even him to fashion into a usable noose. His fingers move rapidly, automatically tying and unraveling various knots as he gazes about. Probably part of his therapy. I point him out to Olive and start moving, but she decidedly shakes her head and motions for me to go ahead. I cross to him alone and say, "Hey, Finnick." He doesn't seem to notice, so I nudge him to get his attention. "Finnick! How are you doing?"

"Prim," he says, gripping my hand. Relieved to see a familiar face, I think. "Why are we meeting here?"

"I told Coin I'd be her Mockingjay. But I made her promise to give the other tributes and victors immunity if the rebels won," I tell him. "In public, so there are plenty of witnesses."

"Oh. Good. Because I worry about that with Annie. That she'll say something that could be construed as traitorous without knowing it," says Finnick. I squeez his hand reassuringly."I put her in by name, no worries."

Words are another thing not wasted in Thirteen. Coin calls the audience to attention and tells them I have consented to be the Mockingjay, provided those in captivity will be granted full pardon for any damage they do to the rebel cause, and that all Victors will be judged by a jury of their peers at the end of the war. In the rumbling of the crowd, I hear the dissent. I suppose no one doubted I would want to be the Mockingjay. So naming a price - one that spares possible enemies - angers them. I stand indifferent to the hostile looks thrown my way.

The president allows a few moments of unrest, and then continues in her brisk fashion. Only now the words coming out of her mouth are news to me. "But in return for this unprecedented request, Soldiers Everdeen and Kentwell have promised to devote themselves to our cause. It follows that any deviance from the mission, in either motive or deed, will be viewed as a break in this agreement. The immunity would be terminated and the fate of the captives and victors determined by the law of District Thirteen. As would their own. Thank you."

I catch Olive's eye across the room and see my thoughts reflected on her face. In other words, we step out of line and we're all dead.

_)o(_

_idk I feel Katniss's ptsd was not really... like present? enough?_

_yeah that sounds okay I guess I hope you know what I mean_

_I wanna punch Coin_

_so nothing new there_


	10. Chapter 10

First thing the next morning, Fulvia orders my prep team to remake Olive and me to Beauty Base Zero, which basically is what a person would look like if they stepped out of bed looking flawless but natural. It means nails are perfectly shaped but not polished. Hair soft and shiny but not styled. Skin smooth and clear but not painted. Wax the body hair and erase the dark circles, but don't make any noticeable enhancements. For me, it's not that much of an effort, really, but Olive, with her acid-damaged hair, sunburned skin, and ugly scars, has to go through a whole regement while I'm simply soaking in the tub.

After I rinse the lather from my body, I turn to find Octavia waiting with a towel. She is so altered from the woman I knew in the Capitol, stripped of the gaudy clothing, the heavy makeup, the dyes and jewelry and knickknacks she adorned her hair with. I remember how one day she showed up with bright pink tresses studded with blinking colored lights shaped like mice. She told me she had several mice at home as pets. The thought was strange to me at the time, since we consider mice vermin, unless cooked. But perhaps Octavia liked them because they were small, soft, and squeaky. Like her. As she pats me dry, I try to become acquainted with the District Thirteen Octavia. Her real hair turns out to be a nice auburn. Her face is ordinary but has an undeniable sweetness. She's younger than I thought. Maybe early twenties, if even that. Devoid of the three-inch decorative nails, her fingers appear almost stubby, and they can't stop trembling. I want to tell her it's okay, that I'll see that Coin never hurts her again. But the multicolored bruises flowering under her green skin only remind me how helpless I am. Octavia pauses at the sight of the small, cresent-shaped lesions my nails left all over my arms, but doesn't comment, only offering me a timid, sad smile. I squeeze her hand in return."It'll be okay, Octavia. I'll make it okay."

She nods, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't really believe me. I'm not sure I do myself. Either way, she gets Flavius to hand over an item from the elaborate arsenal of products, tools, and gadgets Plutarch had the foresight to bring from the Capitol and sets to work on the marks I left on my own skin.

Flavius, too, appears washed out without his purple lipstick and bright clothes. He's managed to get his orange ringlets back in some sort of order, though. It's Venia who's the least changed. Her aqua hair lies flat instead of in spikes and you can see the roots growing in gray. However, the tattoos were always her most striking characteristic, and they're as golden and shocking as ever. She's intently focused on her task and the only one of the three to go near Olive without flinching in terror.

"Prim trusts her,"she says quietly but firmly to the other two when she thinks we won't hear."That girl won't hurt us. She's more like us than anyone else in this godforsaken place."

After that, Olive makes a noticeable effort to smile at them more and say 'please' and 'thank you'.

When it's almost time for lunch, I get dressed so I can head to the dining hall. My prep team huddles in a little group by the door. "Are they bringing your food here?" I ask.

"No," says Venia. "We're supposed to go to a dining hall."

I scowl at that, knowing that Thriteen has rigid rules, but also knowing that they could easily bend them just a little for these three, especially after their horrid treatment. But I guess that would be asking too much, expecting Coin to act as if she knew what empathy is. I swallow down my anger. "I'll show you where it is," I say softly. "Come on."

The covert glances and quiet murmurs I usually evoke are nothing compared to the reaction brought on by the sight of my bizarre-looking prep team. The gaping mouths, the finger pointing, the exclamations. "Just ignore them, they don't even know they're being rude," I tell my prep team - rude is a sad attempt at downplaying the people's behaviour and I know it - while Olive goes as far as flipping off a few people with a glare on her face. Eyes downcast, with mechanical movements, my team follows me through the line, accepting bowls of grayish fish and okra stew and cups of water.

We take seats at my table, beside a group from the Seam. They show a little more restraint than the people from Thirteem do, although it may just be from embarrassment. Leevy, who was my neighbor back in Thirteen, gives a cautious hello to the preps, and Rory's Ma, Hazelle, who must know about their imprisonment, holds up a spoonful of the stew. "Don't worry," she says. "Tastes better than it looks."

But it's sweet little Posy who helps the most. She scoots along the bench to Octavia and touches her skin with a tentative finger. "You're green. Are you sick?"

"It's a fashion thing, Posy. Like wearing lipstick," I say, hoping the mention of make-up might distract her. She liked playing dress-up with the kit Effie got me."Or those fake lashes I had, remember them?"

"It's meant to be pretty," whispers Octavia, and I can see the tears threatening to spill over her lashes.

Posy considers this and says matter-of-factly, "I think you'd be pretty in any colour."

The tiniest of smiles forms on Octavia's lips. "Thank you."

"If you really want to impress Posy, you'll have to dye yourself bright pink," says Gale, thumping his tray down beside me. "That's her favorite colour." Posy giggles and slides back down to her mother. Gale nods at Flavius's bowl. "I wouldn't let that get cold. It doesn't improve the consistency."

Everyone gets down to eating. The stew doesn't taste bad, but there's a certain sliminess that's hard to get around. Like you have to swallow every bite three times before it really goes down.

Gale, who's not usually much of a talker during meals, makes an effort to keep the conversation going, asking about the makeover. Olive point her spoon at him accussingly."Hold up. You'll be in the propos. Why are you not being scrubbed and prettied up?"

"I'll have you know that _I _have a camera ready face,"he replies with a fake-snootiness. Rory roars with laughter."Yeah, right. They just knew no one could save that mug of yours, no matter what they'd do."

As lunch comes to a close, I discreetly take Rory aside and ask him to keep an eye on my prep team, as Gale, Olive and I are scheduled to go down to Special Defense to meet Beetee.

The Special Defense level is situated almost as far down as the dungeons where we found the prep team. It's a beehive of rooms full of computers, labs, research equipment, and testing ranges.

When we ask for Beetee, we're directed through the maze until we reach an enormous plate-glass window. Inside is the first beautiful thing I've seen in the District Thirteen compound: a replication of a meadow, filled with real trees and flowering plants, and alive with hummingbirds. Beetee stands at the center of the meadow with Wiress, watching a spring-green bird hover in midair as it sips nectar from a large orange blossom. His eyes follow the bird as it darts away, and he catches sight of us. He gives a friendly wave for us to join them inside.

The air's cool and breathable, not humid and muggy as I'd expected. From all sides comes the whir of tiny wings, which I used to confuse with the sound of insects in our woods at home. I have to wonder what sort of fluke allowed such a pleasing place to be built here.

Beetee seems happy, his eyes alight with excitement, and Gale and he get into some conversation about hummingbirds and snares while I attempt to speak to Wiress. She glances at me but doesn't really seem to know who I am or why I'm trying to engage her in conversation. Olive stands off to one side, staring at Wiress as if expecting some outburst from her. Maybe even hoping for it, to somehow lessen the guilt she feels over leaving Curie behind, even if it was never her choice. Suddenly uncomfortable, I turn back to the two men."Beetee, Plutarch said you had something for us."

_)o(_

_Octavia is a precious baby and must be protected at all costs tbh_


	11. Chapter 11

"How's Finnick doing?"Beetee aks as we make our way to the special weapons unity.

"He's...he's having concentration problems," I answer. I don't want to say he had a complete mental meltdown. I'm in no position to say that about anyone, anyways.

"Concentration problems, eh?" Beetee smiles grimly. "If you knew what Finnick's been through the last few years, you'd know how remarkable it is he's still with us at all. Tell him I've been working on a new trident for him, though, will you? Something to distract him a little." Distraction actually seems like a good idea, give him the feeling we're actually doing something, and I promise to pass on the message.

Four soldiers guard the entrance to the hall marked Special Weaponry. Checking the schedules printed on our forearms is just a preliminary step. We also have fingerprint, retinal, and DNA scans, and have to step through special metal detectors. I find the whole thing bizarre because I can't imagine anyone raised in District Thirteen being a threat the government would have to guard against. Have these precautions been put in place because of the recent influx of immigrants? Or are they really this paranoid?

At the door of the armory, we encounter a second round of identification checks - as if my DNA might have changed in the time it took to walk twenty yards down the hallway - and are finally allowed to enter the weapons collection. I have to admit the arsenal takes my breath away. Row upon row of firearms, launchers, explosives, armored vehicles. "Of course, the Airborne Division is housed separately," Beetee tells us.

"Of course," I say, as if this would be self-evident. Beetee looks at us for a few seconds, then nods to himself."Gale first, I think. I hear you'll be in the propos, so a simple gun won't do. Something a little showier is needed."

We follow him through the building until we come upon a wall of deadly archery weapons. I've played with a lot of the Capitol's weapons in training, but none designed for military combat. I focus my attention on a lethal-looking bow so loaded down with scopes and gadgetry, I'm certain I can't even lift it, let alone shoot it. Beetee smiles at Gale."Go on, find one that suits you."

Gale's hands close around the indimidating bow that caught my attention a moment ago, and he hefts it onto his shoulder. He points it around the room, peering through the scope.

"That doesn't seem very fair to the deer," I say, just for the sake of saying something. Olive's inspecting the bows in fascination, even though I know she's not usually into ranged weapons.

"Wouldn't be using it on deer, would I?" Gale answers without looking at me.

"I'll be right back," says Beetee, walking away followed by Wiress. He presses a code into a panel, and a small doorway opens. I watch until he's disappeared and the door's shut.

"So, it'd be easy for you? Using that on people?" I ask.

"I didn't say that." Gale drops the bow to his side. "But if I'd had a weapon that could've stopped what I saw happen in Twelve...if I'd had a weapon that could have kept Madge out of the arena... kept out Katniss, or _you_... I'd have used it."

"Me, too,"I admit. Olive, still facing the bows, laughs drily."Be careful what you wish for."

Before either of us can reply, Beetee and Wiress return, each with a black, rectangular case. Beetee hands me one while Wiress offers the other one to Olive."For you."

We both set down the cases, undoing the latches. First I see the sleek, shiny gun but then my gaze falls on the medi kit. I take it out, turning it carefully in my hands, startled by how light it is. But when I open it, I see that it has everything I could possibly need and more. Assorted hypodermic needles and syringes, iodine swabs, hemostatic agents, fluids and tubings and things I've never seen before.

"Oh, wow,"I breathe out, carefully checking every bit of equipment. What I wouldn't have done to have even a fraction of this back in Twelve... "How is it so light?"

"Ah, a few materials I've been experimenting with over the years,"Beetee says,"Deemed to expensieve for mass production. But they gave me a very nice budget for making you a pretty weapon for your costume and I thought - well, I thought you might appreciate this more."

I nod, barely able to keep my eyes and hands of the incredible gifts he just handed me. Beetee chuckles."And it suits you more, I think. A healer, a symbol of hope. You're no warrior. That isn't to say you couldn't be - but first and foremost, it is not your nature."

"Thank you,"I whisper. For what he gave me and for what he just said. I think he understands that.

"The gun is special, though, even if I must admit I didn't spent as much time on it as was envisaged,"he says,"It recognises your voice. Only yours."

"Can I try this thing out?"Olive interupts, soundly as gleeful as a little child on its birthday. I look up to find her holding an axe, polished, elegant and simply stunning.

A target range has already been prepared for us. The gun, which is surprisingly light and a perfect size for my small hands, unlike the things they gave me in training, indeed reacts to my voice. It understands me, almost. Aiming hardly seems difficult and there's next to no recoil. I can shoot with accuracy over one hundred yards.

Olive's axe, too, responds to voice commands.

"I assume they'll issue a gun for combat nonetheless,"Beetee tells her,"But I made it long-range all the same. You have to pick a word to switch modes, whatever you please. Then, when you say it, the chambers inside the blade will release certain components so they can mix. When a force now meets the blade, it'll explode. What you have to do is motion as if you mean to throw the axe, but not release the handle. The blade will come loose and - voila!"

"Clover,"Olive says immediately,"To activate it. I'll use _Clover_. Can I try it now?"

The following display makes me really, really glad that we have Beetee on our side.


	12. Chapter 12

I'm in a good mood after the training session, feeling like we're actually going somewhere with this. Olive is close to ecstatic, carrying her new weapon along with a casual normalcy I'm sure I'll never achieve. Any weapon feels like a foreign body to me. Gale is in a sort of horrified awe at his bow, as far as I can tell. He's to accompany us so he can be in the propo too, as per my request.

We've barely made it back to my prep team, though, when Boggs strides into the room, giving us a polite nod."Soldiers, you're needed in command."

By the time we reach Command, there's already another interview on screen. I recognise the Victor immediately. After all, Liz was Rue's mentor – I clearly remember the effort the Peacekeepers went to to keep us apart on my Victory Tour, and the hurried exchange we managed nontheless. But her niece was taken by the Capitol alongside my sister when the arena was destroyed, so I have no doubt for whom she'll speak now.

"Whatever she says, she's just trying to keep Tia alive,"Chaff says brusquely just as we enter. I cross over to him and sit down in the chair beside his. We exchange strained smiles before fixing our eyes on our fellow Victor on the screen."Not to mention her three boys."

"So, tell us about your Games,"Caesar prompts, settled into his chair as if chatting to a friend. Of course they'd pick up that subject. They must have realised by now what a mistake it was to let Katniss speak about the Games the way she did. She painted them as the horror that they truly are. They surely will sway no rebels with whatever they're making Liz say, but they must also keep their own citizens in check. I really, really want to know what happened to make them realise that.

Liz goes along with Caesar's light tone."Well, the Games are hard to understand if you haven't experienced them first hand. They're this thing that's always present when you're young, you know, looming ahead of you. And then you hear your name, and for a moment your world stands still. There's only one thought left in you, in your every breath, your every heartbeat. _Fight. _Because you're going to. Fight to survive, to spare your family the grieve, because you're afraid. There's plenty of reasons you fight. What it boils down to is this: You fight to win."

She breaks off, shakes her head with a laugh, as if she said something stupid."Of course most people would say that's obvious, I suppose. Why else would you fight? But it's the root of the matter. Every Victor will tell you that they fought to win, if they're being honest. Because there's a certain mentality you have to have to win the Games, to survive everything the arena can throw at you. If you have anything but winning on your mind, you won't."

"That's why no one decent ever wins the Games,"Chaff mumbles next to me. I find I can't quite disagree. On and on the interview goes, painting the Games almost as something we choose, that only the strongest survive, the absurd honour the Capitol thinks it is without using any of those words.

"We need to answer that,"Plutarch say once it's over."Back to the studio, I'd say."

I frown, getting up to do as he says, but then change my mind."Look, we need to set it up the way Snow did. An interview. Can we broadcast in the Capitol?"

All eyes turn to Beetee at this. The Victor from Three nods."Most of their systems are down. One of our – ah, contacts in the Capitol decided to go through with a plan we'd been working on. Well, we haven't heard from him since, but it appears it must have worked. I can get onto all channels. For now."

"What contact?"I ask at the same time as Olive says,"What plan?"

"No matter,"Celeste cuts us of."We'd best use what time we have. Primrose, I assume you'll do the interview?"

"Yeah,"I say."And if you'd be the interviewer? Or maybe Fulvia. We need them to see a Capitolite on our side. I'd suggest Venia but -" I throw Coin a quick look."The state she's in, well... Wouldn't help the cause."

The ex-Gamemaker agrees to do it and with that we're off to get everything ready as fast as possible. I hurry up to my compartment and get a simple, yet elegant sweater Cinna made for me that I got on my trip to Twelve. This interview, while broadcasted to all districts aswell, is mainly aimed at the Capitol citizens. To keep their underground groups going and may get more people to join. And one thing that always applies in the Capitol is to dress to impress.

"Live broadcast,"Plutarch tells me as I return to set. I only nod and move to the set stage. It's an imitation of Caesar's, but with Thirteen's typical military style. I sit opposite from Celeste and Beetee counts us down from ten.

"Primrose,"she greets, and for an instance, I'm transportated back to my very first interview, pre-Games, when I was not sure I'd live for more than another day. Yet here I am. I smile back at Celeste."Would you tell us about your experience in the Games?"

I nod, tking in a deep breath to steel myself."Yes, of course. But, to understand this, I'll have to start before the Games. Before the Reaping even. Is it alright if I ask you a question?"

Celeste nods, not showing whether that startled her."Good. Thank you. When you were twelve, what did you want to be?"

"A designer, I think,"she replies with a small laugh,"Or maybe an escort. It seemed quite glamorous."

"Well, when I was twelve, there was only one thing I wanted to be,"I say."Nineteen. That's all I dreamed of. Nineteen and out of the Reapings for good. Because even before the Games, before anything to do with them, they already control your life. I was a sister, a daughter, a friend. I never thought past that, imagined a future. Because if I'd pictured myself as a wife, a healer, a mother, an _adult __\- _that all could be taken away too easily. The Games take away a part of you. And that's just when they're this abstract concept, this thing that takes an older girl from your school, the brother of someone you used to play tag with. But then your name's called."

I break of, taking a few seconds to collect myself. Celeste reaches out to touch my shoulder but doesn't press me to continue. Of course I do anyway."And then you're no one, or at least who you are doesn't matter. You're a tribute. That one word becomes your entire world. Because, one way or another, you're going to die. Even if you survive, if tribute-you survives, the person you were before is dead. You never go back to before. It's you, tribute, dead. Or you, tribute, victor. I'm not entirely sure what's preferable."

"But surely being alive is always preferable?"Celeste says. I shrug."You'd think so, wouldn't you? I guess I would have said the same thing once. But there's things worth dying for, and there's things that make you wish you were dead. But you don't give up. You never give up. It's like Liz said. All you can think about is winning. No one decent ever wins the Hunger Games."

The ex-Gamemaker looks shocked as I echo Chaff's sentiment."Many people look to you for guidance, Primrose. You inspired an uprising. You inspired so many of us. How can you call yourself not decent?"

"I left Amber to die,"I reply bluntly."I don't have any illusions about the possibility of saving her, I know there was none. But I left my friend to die to save my own skin. I didn't even _try _to help her. Does that sound like something a decent person would do? I promised Peeta we'd win together, or not at all. And yet here I sit alone. Does that sound like I'm a decent person?"

"But the circumstances -"she begins and I cut her off."Exactly. The circumstances. The Games make us into something we can barely recognise anymore. They keep us in fear, make us glad when another's name is called, when it's not our family grieving. I imagine it feels much the same as knowing your child's name will never be entered into such a thing, in the Capitol. At the core, we're all the same. And we have to take our right to be free of all differences. In fire and blood, if necessary."

"Yet your sister called for a cease fire."

I nod to that."And we all know why she did that; whose idea it really was." I look straight into the camera now."As you have probably guessed from my Games, I don't want to kill, I hate every aspect of it. But Snow's regime knows no mercy, they know no second chances. But we have a choice. And I say we fight."

Just like that, someone says,"Cut!" and we're done.

_)o(_

_I'll be in London next week, so there won't be a chapter next Sunday. But I hope you all wish me a lovely holiday anyways ;)_


	13. Chapter 13

_I had a wonderful time in London, thank you :)_

_)o(_

"That was perfect,"a woman says, stepping out from behind one of the cameras. She walks over to me, smiling as she introduces herself as Cressida. There's green vines tattooed on her shaved head, so I don't nedd her to tell me she's Capitol. She's a director and has her assistant, Messalla, and two burly cameramen by her side, Pollux and Castor. I shake everyone's hands and than turn to the twins."Sorry, but how can I tell you two apart?"

"Oh, that's easy,"one twin says with a grin, gesturing to his brother."Pollux is the avox."

His brother signs something and winks at me as Castor interprets for him."He wants me to add he's also the handsome one. And, as you can tell, the deluded one."

I giggle, then addressing Pollux."Do you think you could teach me signing?"

He nods, and signs something Castor interprets for him."He says he'd be happy to help the Mockingjay."

"How do you say mockingjay?"I ask, curiously.

"Not just mockingjay,"Castor says."_The _Mockingjay. The Avoxes gave you a name sign. Two, actually." He holds his hands loosly infront of his chest and closes them to fist, then holds up his right hand with three fingers draped over the thumb."That's the Mockingjay." He repeats the hands to fists gesture but instead follows it with his index finger pointing to his right and his thumb atop the other three."That's Primrose Everdeen."

"Name signs are a big deal,"Cressida tells me."You don't just pick one, you get one when you're in the community. Or, as your case might be, when you're important to the community."

"Thank you so much,"I say to Pollux, but further conversation is cut off by Olive and Gale returning to the room, readily made up for their part of the propo.

They're in full uniform and I have to say, it's pretty impressive. Still, they are immideatly ushered out on the soundstage and the camera team gets to work while my prep team does some final adjustments. Once Plutarch is satisified with the lighting, makeup and smoke levels, they are pretty much perfect, especially Olive. Her body seems larger in stature, more imposing than usually. Her face smudged but sexy. Her brows black and drawn in an angle of defiance. Wisps of smoke - suggesting she has either just been extinguished or is about to burst into flames - rise from her clothes. Everything about her screams District Two, and I know that's what they must have been aiming for. This is to sway the Career districts, and to show the others aswell as the Capitol that they are on our side. Even if that isn't quite true just yet.

Gale could almost rival Finnick in handsomeness and Johanna in angry surliness. If you stuck him among the Victors, people would be hard-pressed to notice.

"They'll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you,"a familiar voice suddenly says. I spin around to see Finnick, Cashmere and Chaff walking into the room. I'm so happy to hear some of his usual humour peaking through, I don't even notice how Olive freezes at the sight of him at first. She stares at him like a cornered animal and his face falls at the look on hers. He takes a step forward and reaches out for her. The girl from Two flinches as if she expects him to hit her and Finn quickly steps back again.

"I'm so sorry,"Olive says at the same time as Finnick says her name with a gentleness and anguish that make my heart ache. And then she's in his arms and they're both sobbing, for the cousin and friend they lost, for the loved one they shared, for the grieve that binds them together.

"Can we give them a moment?"Cashmere says testily as everyone just continues to stand around, staring at the two. We walk off to one side and I strike up conversation in a hopeless attempt at sounding casual."So, what are you guys doing here?"

"District untiy,"Chaff says with a roll of his eyes and I realise that they're infact in uniform and toting guns around."They want us to show we're all in this together and crap."

"How eloquently put,"the Victor from One remarks."But basically, yeah. So you better hop off and get dress, little leader."

Followed by my prep team, I go and change, getting as startegically smeared and smudged as the others. By the time I'm back, they apparently already did seperate shoots of everyone and we just need to get the group-thing on camera.

It's the six of us - Gale, Finnick, Cashmere, Olive, Chaff, and me - pretending we've just come out of battle and I'm suppossed to motivate my comrades.

"People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!"

There's clapping and a lot of patting everyone on the back and just like that, we're done and allowed to wash up for dinner.

In the dining hall the screens all around the room flicker to life while we're eating. The Capitol program keeps getting interrupted by our videos, by pieces of my interview replaying, by the Victors, by Olive and Gale, by all of us standing united and me saying that line.

Then there's footage upon footage of Olive again, in the arena and the Capitol, sound taken from her pre-Games interview acting as a voiceover.

_"I'm going to walk out of that arena alive, though. You'll see, it'll be a blast."_

Then there's the arena exploding and Olive standing in burning rubble so realistic I almost forget I just saw her in the studio and that it's all just computer made. Her axe in hand, her eyes gleaming and a smirk on her face, she winks at the camera."Told you so."

_)o(_

_okay I hope I got name signs right, I read like 15 different artciles on it but let me know if not and I'll fix it_

_I just thought it was so great they used asl in the mockingjay film_

_the name sign can be seen as brave followed by m / p or as heal followed by either letter_

_I'll leave that up to each indivdual, as it was intended for the avoxes to intend it that way so ya_


	14. Chapter 14

The propos go down well in Thirteen, with people congratulating both me and Olive on them, apparently forgetting that they viewed us almost as traitors not twenty four hours ago for bringing our own demands into this all. Either way, I'm glad for the subtle hostility disappearing. Not that I'll forget about it. All of Thirteen feels like just another arena to me. Coin is no more forgiving than Snow, and at some point, I will either have to cave in about something or push her too far - and I don't plan on caving. For now, I push such dark thoughts away, looking over my schedule for the day. Breakfast, command, training - sadly actual training, not out-door time - lunch, school, hospital duty, dinner, reflection, command. Nothing new there.

Mum's already gone by the time I get up, as she almost always is, so I make my way to breakfast with Olive alone. I've barely set down my tray when I see Haymitch enter the hall. I run up to him and fling my arms around him immediately. Since we arrived in Thirteen, I was only allowed to see him once, which took a whole lot of haggling, yelling and shameless begging on my part, as he was kept in isolation. I step back to take a proper look at him and almost gasp in shock. He looks like death warmed over, dark rings under his eyes, sunken in cheeks, a yellow tinge to his skin and a harried look in his eyes. He tries to smile, but it comes across as more of a grimace."That bad, huh?"

"No,"I lie, very unconvincingly."Just didn't know you'd get out, is all."

Now he actual manages a small grin."You really can't lie for shit, kiddo."

"Fine, you look like crap. Better?"I say. He shakes his head."Nah. And watch your language, or I'll have Trinket on my case for corrupting you."

I freeze and don't know what to say. Surely he must know she never made it out?

I'm saved from answering by Chaff, who looks half annoyed, half relieved when he spots Haymitch."I told you to wait up."

I catch his eye and he slowly, sadly shakes his head before steering Haymitch off towards the food line. I scoff my food down in record time and run to Mum's medical unit before my time slot is up.

"Did you see Haymitch?"I burst out without preamble as soon as I find my mother. She bites her lip and doesn't look at me right away, which already tells me everything I need to know. Then she sighs and apparently decides it's best to tell me."He's in bad shape. Alcohol withdrawl affects everyone differently. You've seen Chaff, he's basically fine. Haymitch - well, apart from all the physiological symptoms, he also has some psychic issues."

"Like what?"I press.

"Sweetheart -"she starts, but I cut her off."Like what, Mum?"

Again, she sighs."Confusion, disorientation, visual and auditory hallucinations. He has difficulty processing and retaining information. And -" she lowers her voice, as if afraid someone might be spying on us,"Whatever they're giving him to calm him down is just making it worse and worse."

"So they messed him up completely,"I say. Mum strokes my hair with a sad look on her face."Nothing's that simple, my love. He needs some time, that's all."

"He can't die,"I say. I angrily blink against the tears pooling in my eyes but give up as my mother pulls me into her arms."Mummy, he can't die."

"I know,"she whispers,"I know, it'll be okay. I won't _let _him die, you hear me? I already requested he be put under my care this morning. I'll make it okay, Prim, I promise."

It's so much like what I told Octavia that I can't help but wonder if Mum believes it as little as I did my own words. But I have to hope she can do what she's promising, because I can't go on if I don't hope anymore. Hope is the one thing I can't, I won't let anyone take away from me.

So I wriggle out of my mother's embrace and press a kiss to her cheek."Thank you, Mum. I need to go, command's waiting."

Hurrying turns out to be unnecessary. It's the same old, same old. The Capitol has their systems back up, so we won't be broadcasting propos for now, but they'll still want to film more to have it ready when the need arises. There is no news from the Capitol's prisoners. Rebellion is still ravaging the districts.

In training, the only consolation is that Rory's in my group. We're doing a mental as well as physical exercise today. They call them War Games here, and that just reminds me how little they do understand the reality of what us other twelve districts have suffered through with the Hunger Games.

"Are you okay?"Rory whispers as the woman in charge of our age group names me team leader, seemingly thinking she's doing me a favour. I only nod. I have to be.

There's five teams and it's everyone against everyone. What makes these War Games even more disturbing is that we go up to our trainer one by one and pull a marble from a sack without showing anyone. Most are blue, but there's five red ones. Those mean you're a traitor. Even in their training scenarios, they factor in traitors.

For thirty minutes, we get to set up base camp and hide six small packs whereever we please. The goal is to collect as many as possible from other teams. I give one to Rory and keep one to myself, sending four other kids off to each hide a pack without telling anyone where. My own pack I stuff down my shirt and secure it in place with my weapon belt. Rory follows suit."I could be the traitor, you know."

"I know,"I say."But you're not. If we don't go down, the team can't go down. Let them do their worst."

And they do. There's rules upon rules, but it's still absolutely insane.

More than half the kids are 'dead' before even a fraction of the alloted time is over. They're not allowed to move from the battelfield and just have to lay there, in a perverse caricature of those actually fallen. A dark-skinned girl about my height sinks to the ground, attacked by the deemed traitor of her group, and I freeze in my tracks. Rory, always right next to me, grabs my hand."Not real, Prim, it's not her. That's Laila."

"Laila,"I repeat, and tear my gaze away from the girl."That's Laila."

We navigate our way through the battlefield, scouring for packs from other teams. Soon, there's only a handful of children standing, all in various degrees of dishevelment. My shirt has become untucked and I pull the pack out to secure it again when a boy sees and _flings _himself at me. Rory's between us in the blink of an eye and then the trainer declares them both mortally wounded, counting first the other boy and then Rory into their 'death'. Rory pulls out both his pack and one from the other boy's pocket and throws them to me before keeling over so overly dramatically I know it's completely for my benefit.

"Last one with own packs,"the trainer says, pointing at me."Game over, green team wins."

I drop the packs and pull Rory up from the ground, hugging him tightly."If we are ever in real combat and you sacrifice yourself for me, I swear to everything, I'll fucking kill you!"

Laughing, he presses a kiss to my forehead."Understood, captain."

_)o(_

_prory feels tbh_


	15. Chapter 15

The training has absolutely drained me, mentally more than physically, and the little good that lunch did me was gone half-way through my class on muttations and crossbreeding of animals. So by the time I report for hospital duty, I'm basically dead on my feet.

But I force on a smile for my patients anyway, especially once I see Glamour's come in for a check-up. She's waiting all by herself and looks like a lost little puppy. In that moment, it's hard to believe that she's a trained Career.

"Hey, Glamour,"I greet her gently,"How are you feeling?"

She shrugs and gives me a timid smile."Okay, I guess. A bit nervous."

"It's scary being here, knowing hardly anyone,"I say, knowing what she meant without her having to say so. I feel the same way, and I have friends here. Even though I haven't seen Livia and Estelle in days, now that I think about it. I frown at the thought but quickly remind myself to focus on the girl infront of me.

"Demi was going to come, but she has work,"Glamour tells me,"And Cashmere has some command stuff or whatever going on."

I raise my eyebrows at that, filing the information away for later. Meetings that exclude me and that I haven't even heard of... I'll have to get onto that."So, you and Demeter get along okay?"

The blonde lights up at that."Yeah, she's great. And being a real sport, seeing as we - you know, tried to kill her and all."

_Still speaking in the Career collective,_ I note, though I'm not sure she realises she's doing it."That's great. Think you can manage that at some point? Be around Olive, I mean?"

"I - I guess,"Glamour stammers out."I mean, I saw your interview. And you're right, it's not really _you _in the arena, so if I accept that for myself, I guess it wasn't really Olive either. It's just - it's all so - I don't - you, tribute, dead or victor. I'm neither." She stares at me for a long moment, looking even more distraught than when I first walked in. "What are we? What the hell am I?"

"A survivor,"I say, and I mean it. We don't speak for the rest of her check up, but she gives me a genuine _thank you _before she leaves that I know has nothing to do with the medical stuff.

Once Glamour is gone, I decide that I'm no use for anyone right now anyway and instead should go and find out what the others are up to. First I swing by the kitchens and get Greasy Sae to let Olive, who's being handed around until they find a task that suits her, come with me.

"I don't even care where we're going,"the girl from Two says once Sae's out of earshot."If I had to hear one more recipe involving an absurd amount of wild dog and things that should just not _ever_ be eaten, I would have sliced my ears of with a potato peeler."

I laugh at that."Yeah, Sae has an interesting idea of what should go into a stew. To be fair, it usually tasted pretty darn good. Anyways, apparently there's something happening in Command."

"Without us?"Olive says, scandalised."So we're crashing, right?"

"You bet we are,"I reply.

When we waltz into Command, they're just deciding to send Cashmere and Chaff into the Districts for more propos.

"Cool,"Olive says and everyone in the room spins around to look at us."Prim and I'll come aswell."

This is followed by lots and lots of arguing about how that is much too dangerous.

"The others are going,"I argue. Chaffs barks out a dry laugh at this."We're expandable."

There's a short, awkward silence and then the collective decision to ignore what he just said. Olive, rather agitated at this point, turns straight to Coin."Look, propos are all well and good but if you want my district on your side, you're better of listening to what I tell you. The staged stuff just doesn't work on us. There's no risk, so it doesn't matter. There's no bravery involved, no honour. It won't incite rebellion the way having me in the field will."

"She has a point,"Cashmere says."It's the same for One. And I don't think I'm enough to make Two come around. We have a whole rivalry thing going on for decades."

"What if we let Olive go?"Plutarch suggests. I round on him."And how would that look? The Mockingjay hiding away?"

"Even if we're careful, we can't guarantee your safety," says Boggs. "You'll be a target for every - "

"I don't care,"I cut him off.

"And if you're killed?" asks Coin.

"Make sure you get some footage. You can use that, anyway," I answer.

"Fine," says Coin. "But let's take it one step at a time. Find the least dangerous situation that can evoke some spontaneity in you." She walks around Command, studying the illuminated district maps that show the ongoing troop positions in the war. "Take them into Eleven this afternoon. There was heavy bombing this morning, but the raid seems to have run its course. I want her armed with a squad of bodyguards. Camera crew on the ground."

_)o(_

_things are heating up..._

_is it time for more character death already? tune in next time_

_joking you guys_

_maybe_

_lol_


	16. Chapter 16

Since I'll be in a combat zone, Beetee helps me with armor Cinna designed. A helmet of some interwoven metal that fits close to my head. The material's supple, like fabric, and can be drawn back like a hood in case I don't want it up full-time. A vest to reinforce the protection over my vital organs. A small white earpiece that attaches to my collar by a wire. Beetee secures a mask to my belt that I don't have to wear unless there's a gas attack. "If you see anyone dropping for reasons you can't explain, put it on immediately," he says. Finally, he straps my medi-kit and a gun-holster to my hip."Be safe, Primrose."

"Thanks, Beetee,"I say, turning to see if Wiress is done with Olive. Her armor is showier than mine and where I feel terrified she looks excited. She keeps running her fingers along the handle of her axe, clearly iching to pull it free from its holster.

Boggs shows up to escort us down to the Airborne Division. Just as the elevator arrives, Finnick appears in a state of agitation. "Prim, they won't let me go! I told them I'm fine, but they won't even let me ride in the hovercraft!"

I take in Finnick - his bare legs showing between his hospital gown and slippers, his tangle of hair, the half-knotted rope twisted around his fingers, the wild look in his eyes - and know any plea on my part will be useless, even if I were willing to ask them. I think it's in his best interest not to come, but I can ahrdly tell him that. So I smack my hand on my forehead and say, "Oh, I forgot. So much has been going on. I was supposed to tell you to report to Beetee in Special Weaponry. He's designed a new trident for you."

At the word trident, it's as if the old Finnick surfaces. "Really? What's it do?"

"I don't know,"I admit, and Olive jumps to the rescue."But if it's anything like my axe, you're going to love it. You'll need to train with it, though."

"Right. Of course. I guess I better get down there," he says.

"Finnick?" I say. "Maybe some pants?"

He looks down at his legs as if noticing his outfit for the first time. Then he whips off his hospital gown, leaving him in just his underwear. "Why? Do you find this" - he strikes a ridiculously provocative pose - "distracting?"

I can't help but laugh, especially when Olive gives an exagerated wolf whistle and Boggs look ridiculously uncomfortable."Who wouldn't, Finn?"I ask as the elevator closes.

There's a series of loud clicks. The elevator comes to a slight pause and then begins to move laterally to the left. "It goes sideways?" I ask.

"Yes. There's a whole network of elevator paths under Thirteen," he answers. "This one lies just above the transport spoke to the fifth airlift platform. It's taking us to the Hangar."

The Hangar. The dungeons. Special Defense. Somewhere food is grown. Power generated. Air and water purified. "Thirteen is even larger than I thought."

"Can't take credit for much of it," says Boggs. "We basically inherited the place. It's been all we can do to keep it running."

The clicks resume. We drop down again briefly - just a couple of levels - and the doors open on the Hangar.

"Oh," I let out involuntarily at the sight of the fleet. Row after row of different kinds of hovercraft. "Did you inherit these, too?"

"Some we manufactured. Some were part of the Capitol's air force. They've been updated, of course," says Boggs.

I feel that twinge of hatred against Thirteen again. "So, you had all this, and you left the rest of the districts defenseless against the Capitol."

"It's not that simple," he shoots back. "We were in no position to launch a counterattack until recently. We could barely stay alive. After we'd overthrown and executed the Capitol's people, only a handful of us even knew how to pilot. We could've nuked them with missiles, yes. But there's always the larger question: If we engage in that type of war with the Capitol, would there be any human life left?"

"Sounds like a cop-out to me," Olive counters."But good thing you rationalized it so nicely."

Boggs sighs. "You'll notice neither side has launched nuclear weapons, and we'd rather keep it that way. We're working it out the old-fashioned way. Over here, Soldier Everdeen, Soldier Kentwell." He indicates one of the smaller hovercraft.

I mount the stairs and find it packed with the television crew and equipment. There's a warning of the upcoming takeoff and I strap myself into a seat next to Gale, facing off with Olive and Plutarch. We glide through a maze of tunnels that opens out onto a platform. Some sort of elevator device lifts the craft slowly up through the levels. All at once we're outside in a large field surrounded by woods, then we rise off the platform and become wrapped in clouds.

Now that the flurry of activity leading up to this mission is over, I realize I have no idea what I'm facing on this trip to District Eleven and that I'm horribly unprepared. The next thing that springs into my head is that all of this was so hurried, I didn't even think to tell Mum I'm gone. Or Rory. Telling Coin to keep the cameras rolling if I were to die suddenly seems a much worse idea.

_)o(_

_sorry for the short, late, kinda filler chapter_

_I'm really not in a good place right now_


	17. Chapter 17

_Sorry for the late update, I was visiting my grandmother in hospital_

_)o(_

"So what exactly is the plan?"Olive asks. Plutarch takes a look at his clipboard, even though I'm sure he must know the answer by heart."We are bringing in supplies for the wounded, as well as what weaponry we can spare for the rebells. We'll get footage of you with as many people as possible, which hopefully will also inspire them to keep fighting."

"Can we look for Rue's family?"I ask, not really caring much about his rationalising how useless we essentially are. Boogs answers before the ex-Gamemaker can."That is a risk we can not take." I want to protest, but he holds up a hand to cut me off."For both you _and _the family. Make no mistake, Snow will be following our movements as closely as he can manage. We aren't certain of the Capitol's capabilities at this moment, they might well be able to track as. Do you want to give away the family's location?"

I quickly shake my head. I hadn't even thought of that.

It doesn't take us long to reach the district. The hovercraft makes a quick, spiral descent onto a wide road on the outskirts of Eleven. Almost immediately, the door opens, the stairs slide into place, and we're spit out onto the asphalt. The moment the last person disembarks, the equipment retracts. Then the craft lifts off and vanishes. I'm left with a bodyguard made up of Gale, Boggs, and two other soldiers, and of course Olive. On top of that, there's Cressida's team.

Boggs hustles us off the road toward a row of warehouses as a second hovercraft comes in for a landing. This one brings Chaff and Cashemere, and also crates of medical supplies and a crew of six medics - I can tell by their distinctive white outfits. I assume they're also carrying the weapons Plutarch mentioned, but I can't be sure. We all follow Boggs down an alley that runs between two dull gray warehouses. Only the occasional access ladder to the roof interrupts the scarred metal walls. When we emerge onto the street, it's like we've entered another world.

The wounded from this morning's bombing are being brought in. On homemade stretchers, in wheelbarrows, on carts, slung across shoulders, and clenched tight in arms. Bleeding, limbless, unconscious. Propelled by desperate people to a warehouse with a sloppily paintedH above the doorway. It's a scene from my old kitchen, where my mother treated the dying, multiplied by ten, by fifty, by a hundred. I had expected bombed-out buildings and instead find myself confronted with broken human bodies.

My hands immediately shoot for my medi-kit, fingers itching to do something, to help. Chaff suddenly starts walking faster, almost running, to reach the young man overseeing and directing the incoming patients. They embrace tightly, and when we reach them, Chaff introduces his nephew Mica.

"You think this is a good idea?" says Gale, frowning at the hospital. "Assembling your wounded like this?"

I don't. Any sort of contagious disease would spread through this place like wildfire. And it's a much too obvious a target.

"Don't see that we have much of an alternative,"Mica replies."We're living on a wish and a prayer here, anyways."

He leads us through the first door and then there's a second, guarded by a man of about Haymitch's age and a woman - girl - who can't be older than Gale. She's wearing remnants of a Peacekeeper uniform that has mockingjays smeared on it over and over. First, I think she must have taken it off a Peacekeeper, but then I see the way her bright grey eyes light up at the sight of Olive. The girl raises her right hand, balled into a fist, and knocks it against her chest twice, right over the heart. Olive answers her with the same gesture."Someone from home! What's your name?"

"Argenta,"the girl supplies readily, beaming at Olive."I defected the moment you left the Cornucopia with Everdeen."

"Almost half the Peacekeepers stationed here joined us,"Mica tells me proudly."The Capitol wouldn't stand a chance in a fair fight."

No one needs to point out that this isn't one. Instead, Boggs motions for us to go further.

The smell is disgusting - soiled linen, putrefying flesh, and vomit, all ripening in the heat of the warehouse. They've propped open skylights that crisscross the high metal roof, but any air that's managing to get in can't make a dent in the fog below. The thin shafts of sunlight provide the only illumination, and as my eyes adjust, I can make out row upon row of wounded, in cots, on pallets, on the floor because there are so many to claim the space. The drone of black flies, the moaning of people in pain, and the sobs of their attending loved ones have combined into a wrenching chorus.

We have no real hospitals in the districts. We die at home, which at the moment seems a far desirable alternative to what lies in front of me. Then I remember that many of these people probably lost their homes in the bombings.

I take a few steps into the room, moving among the patients and then crouch down next to one arbitrarily. It's a boy my age who's holding a little girl, probably his sister. His eyes are fixed on my face as if he can't quite believe he's actually seeing me. I check the bandages on his neck and shoulders, tell him how brave he's being, pet the little girls hair, all the while aware that he still hasn't uttered a word.

Olive pulls a small bag from the satchel by her hip and hands both the boy and the girl a small, red object. I recognise Greasy Sae's strawberry drops, and realise the two of them must have conspired to bring a little happiness into the districts.

"What, are you going to have me whipped now?"Olive hisses at Boggs, who has his eyebrows raised at what he must qualify as stealing food. Then she moves away from us, trailed by Pollux, Chaff taking it as a cue to do the same. I smile at the boy infront of me."You can eat it, you know. They're very good."

He pops the treat into his mouth and then, finally, says something. My name. So reverently it might be a spell, or a prayer.

"You're really here,"he breathes."You're real, aren't you? It's actually you."

"It's me,"I tell him."I'm here, it's me."

He calls it out to the people nearby, and it spreads fast, faster than even infection could, joy flooding through the warehouse and momentarily erasing the pain until it can be heard from all sides.

"She's here! It's her! Primrose Everdeen is here!"

_)o(_

_Argenta/Mica OTP tbh_


	18. Chapter 18

From all sides, voices beckon me. I begin to move, clasping the hands extended to me, touching the sound parts of those unable to move their limbs, saying hello, how are you, good to meet you. Nothing of importance, no amazing words of inspiration. But somehow, my mere presence seems to inspire them.

I take time to assess wounds, change bandages, clean cuts, and set broken bones. More than anything, people want to here me speak, though. It doesn't seem to matter what I say, as long as I keep talking.

Many ask me about Katniss, assure me that they know she was forced to say what she said. They ask Gale if there's news from Madge, and somehow he ends up holding a baby. I raise an eyebrow in question and only move further when he gives a small nod, letting me know he'll be okay by himself.

Chaff shows up by my side again after a while, as I'm rummaging for the right pills for a little boy boiling with fever."I think I'll stay here."

"I'm okay,"I say, distracted."You can keep walking around."

The silence that follows makes me turn to him. We stare at eachother for a few seconds that feel like forever until I understand."No, Chaff. No, you can't."

"This is my home,"he says."I want to do something, really do something. Not just be hauled up in Thirteen, safe and sound while my people are dying. They need me here."

"Haymitch needs you,"I reply without really thinking about it."_I _need you."

He laughs drily."You don't, kid, you barely know me."

"I can count the people I can trust there on one hand,"I say, knowing he'll understand I mean District Thirteen."Finnick's out of it, Haymitch is more than out of it. My mum's close to her breaking point. Gale's barely functioning, I can't drag Rory into this any deeper. You can't abandon me."

"Bit self centered, little lady,"he mocks. I glare at him, hands on my hips and jaw set."I'm the _fucking_ Mockingjay, Chaff. It's in everyone's interest to keep me going, and I can't do it on my own, okay? I just can't. And you'd make Snow target these people even more just by your mere presence. So who's really being self centered?"

He doesn't get a chance to answer because the door opens and we both instantly become aware of the change in atmosphere. It's subtle and I can't even explain it myself, but there's something to my senses suddenly that reminds me of the arena.

Argenta strolls into the room casually – too casually – and touches Mica's shoulder to get his attention. The smile dies on his lips as she whispers something to him before heading back outside.

Chaff and I exchange only a quick glance before heading towards the door. From across the room, I see the others do the same. Gale, Olive, Cashmere, Boggs – everyone whose senses are as schooled to recognise danger as ours.

"What's happening?"Olive asks. Mica answers quietly, checking to make sure no one around is listening."Peacekeepers incoming."

"I was not informed of this,"Boggs says, checking his earpiece to make sure it's still working. Mica shakes his head."You wouldn't be, they're not arriving by hovercraft. They're already in the district. They attack, we beat them down, they reform, they attack. Obviously, today they decided to target the hospital. The bastards."

Boggs frowns, but then turns to me and Olive."We have to get to the airstrip. Immediately."

"Are you kidding me?"Olive spits."We're not leaving. We'll fight."

The commander looks like he wants to argue, but with a glance at everyone's faces, he apparently realises it would be futile anyways. He sighs and turns to his soldiers."Tinko, you don't let Soldier Kentwell leave your sight. I'll cover Soldier Everdeen. And you stick with the camera team, Pep."

The soldiers accept the orders with quick salutes and then we all go outside. Eleven's forces are already assembling, Argenta giving commands in an assertive, certain tone far beyond her years.

Olive waits for her to be done with her orders, then walks straight up to her. She places her fist over her heart, their district's equivalence of a salute."At your service, Commanding officer."

I quickly copy the gesture, squaring my shoulders in hopes of looking at least slightly taller. Argenta is quick to assign us and our team positions.

A boy who can hardly be my age comes racing up towards us, gasping for breath as he comes to a halt infront of Argenta."There's almost twice as many as we thought, ma'am. Heavbily armed, all of them."

The girl from Two spits out a string of curses."The bastards did it. They must've brought in reenforcements during the bombing."

She thinks for a moment and then nods to herself."Alright, everyone! Formation Seven, scenario Alpha Three. We have to keep them from the wounded at all costs."

We're taking up our positions when Plutach's voice comes through my headset."Primrose! You have to get to the evacuation point right now. We can't wait much longer."

"Then don't,"I say."You're quite good at leaving people behind, remember?"

With that, I take of the headset and stuff it into my pocket. I don't want to hear whatever he has to say right now. Flanked by Boggs and Gale, I wait. I'm at the back of the force, basically the safest I can be, but I didn't argue with Argenta. I'd probably only be a liability in the frontlines.

When the enemy force rounds the corner, my heart almost stops. There's so many, perfectly armoured and armed. Slowly, I put the headset back on and make sure my gun's saftey is off.


	19. Chapter 19

"Soldier Everdeen, do not leave my side,"Boggs tells me, eyes fixed on the advancing forces. Without looking away myself, I take a step closer to him."I'm not planning to. I swear."

And it is quite honestly the last thing on my mind. A huge, selfish part of me is already regretting that I refused to make a run for it when Plutarch and Boggs told us so. But now I am here, and I won't go down without a fight.

Gale pulls up my hood, apparently noticing I'm to transfixed by what's coming to do it myself."Prim, if you want to go back into the hospital, no one would blame you. I'd feel better if you would."

"I'd blame me,"I say."And we can't let them get in there, Gale. We can't."

The enemy peacekeepers are moving in as if one being and stop right infront of our forces, taking aim. Argenta steps forward, raising her hand to let her own troops know to hold fire. Not that we have that many weapons, anyways. Her voice rings out clearly, even all the way back here."Brothers, sisters, you do not need to do this. We will accept your surrender."

It seems to be an offer she makes them every time, as far as I can tell. Their Head peacekeeper barks out an unamused laugh, foolishly pushing up his visor to sneer at her."What do you take us for, little girl? Peacekeepers!"

"Sir, yes, sir,"they shout in unison.

"What is our purpose?"

"To protect the Capitol and its assests, sir!"

"And if we die while fullfilling that purpose?"

"No higher honour, sir!"

"Alright,"Argenta drawls out, raising her gun."Can't say I didn't offer."

The man's head explodes into a red mess and then, all hell breaks loose.

The enemy leaves formation as an explosion to their left scatters them apart and our people move forward. Divide and conquer, Argenta said. I can't help but feel like they're placing themselves inbetween a rock and a hard place instead.

Everything's happening so fast - Eleven's people have the home territory, a real reason to fight, but the peacekeepers have training and superior weapons. Suddenly, I'm slammed to the ground. I'm dizzy and confused for a few seconds but then I realises Boggs is on top of me, shielding me with his body. Where there was a stone wall mere moments ago there is now a gaping hole, flames licking behind it and people screaming. I scramble to my feet and run into the hospital as soon as Boggs lets me get up. We extinguish the flames as best we can and help move people further into the hospital, away from the fighting, but then there's the first peacekeepers who made it through our defenses. Boggs gives me one look, weighing duty against compassion, then curses and throws himself into the fight, pushing the peacekeepers out again.

I grab a young woman by the arm as she's passing me by, a ragged piece of cloth on her arm marking her as a nurse. "Take this,"I say, pulling a few things from my medikit and shoving them into her hands. I have to find Gale. If I come back without him - if something were to happen to him - I can't even finish the thought.

Pollux janks me back as I'm almost out of the hospital again, eyes wide and shaking his head. I wriggle out of his grasp."I have to."

Unsurprisingly, he follows me out.

I've watched too many of my friends die already, uselessly standing by. No more. I run into the battlefield, trying to find him. Something hits me in the side and I double over, wheezing, but whatever it was didn't penetrate the vest. It still hurts like hell. Pollux pulls me up again, signalling that we have to keep moving.

I spot Messalla before I see Gale. Cressida's assisstant was stationed with him, like Pollux with me and Cressida herself with Olive while Castor is suppossed to get as much of the battle as he can. They're all absolutely insane for keeping the cameras rolling. Gale's on a block of cement with shackles on it - I don't even want to think about what that was used for - picking off peacekeeper after peacekeeper with his bow, sometimes a whole group with one of the explosive arrows. His eyes are wide and frantic, his lips moving constantly.

Only once I've climbed up the block and kneel next to him can I make out the words, the same ones over and over."It's just hunting, it's just hunting, it's just hunting."

Then, suddenly, Pollux jumps over the edge, racing headlong into the chaos. I try to follow his gaze with my own and then I see what set him off. His brother, crumbled to the ground with a peacekeeper standing over him, ready to strike.

"Gale!"I scream, and he reacts faster than I thought possible. As the arrow finds the peacekeepers throat, I'm already running. Pollux is cowering next to Castor when I reach them, pressing his hands to a wound in his abdomen. I am frozen, for a moment, fighting back the memories that threaten to overwhelm me.

"Let me,"I order, and inspect them wound, working as fast as I can while Pollux stands guard, gun in hand and a knife on his belt. My hands are shaking by the time I'm done."Pollux, taking him into the hospital. Keep pressure on that, okay? Castor, don't you dare die on us. That's a damn fine pressure bandage, so just lay down and keep calm."

Before either can reply, I'm already running again. Adrenalin is flooding my veins and I have a sudden sense of purpose. I can actually do something here. A handful of patients and a few minutes later, I've backed myself into a corner. Or, more accurately, peacekeepers have.

"Can you imagine the reward if we bring her in alive?"one of them says, a tone of wonder in his voice. Had they not recognised me, I would already be dead. One of the others shrugs."Or bring her body, it's all the same to topside, I bet you."

"Step away from the Mockingjay before I make you,"a voice suddenly commands, and there's Olive, splattered in blood and positively glowing with the fire of fighting, her axe in hand and Cressida a step behind, camera rolling. The peacekeepers exchange uncertain looks, then three of them point their guns at her, their leader chuckling darkly."And you'll make us how?"

"It's really her,"one of the others says in awe."Olive Kentwell's actually fighting with them. She's with the Mockingjay."

It's the fastest change in atmosphere I've ever experienced. First one, then two, then half a dozen peacekeepers turn on their comrades, and then Olive and I are back in the fight, flanked by our new companions.

"They're retreating,"someone shouts after who knows how long, and indeed they are. There's bodies everywhere, people dead and dying, wounded and maimed. I move from one to the next until Olive calls me over."It's Argenta, get over here!"

We get the commander to open her eyes as we kneel next to her, and there's a hazy grin on her face."Beat them again,"she smiles, a trickle of blood running down her chin."An honour to serve with you, Soldier Kentwell."

"The honour's all mine,"Olive says gently, then gives me a look."She's not dying, is she? Tell me she's not dying. Not her, too."

"We have supplies, here,"I say, squeezing Olive's hand before focussing on my patient. I know she's thinking of Amphitrite, but I don't have time to comfort her right now. I'm assessing her wounds when Mica finds us. He pales at the sight of her, pushing Olive away without a word to take her spot."Genta? Can you hear me? You can't die, you hear me? I won't allow it."

"I'm higher ranked than you are, stupid,"Argenta mumbles, making an odd sound, half laugh, half cough."You can't give me orders."

"We can move her now,"I interupt, doubtfully eyeing a huge gash on Mica's leg."Can you carry her?"

He brushes of me concerns."Course I'll manage."

Mica carefully gathers Argenta into his arms and we start the trek towards the hospital. I talk while we walk, unable to bare the sounds around us without covering them up atleast a little, continuing my monologue even when Mica finds a free spot to lay her down in the hospital."I'm pretty sure she'll be alright. She shouldn't get up for a while, but the wound isn't life threatening. But there's so much blood. I don't understand why there's so much blood. I really have -"

"I'm having a miscarriage,"Argenta cuts me off so softly I almost think I misheard. Olive and I exchange a quick, astounded look while Mica doesn't react for a few seconds. Then the words seem to start to make sense to him."But you never said - you should have told - oh my god."

"You wouldn't have wanted me in the field anymore,"Argenta states oddly matter-of-factly."I didn't think anything would happen to me. To us. I'm so sorry."

And then she's sobbing hysterically and Olive pulls me away from them.

_)o(_

_omg I'm so sorry I fucking suck at action scenes omg woah_

_also, simple rule: do not be my otp, my fave character, or just generally aw-worthy_

_because I will ruin your life_

_(also looking at you, effie, sweetheart *wink*)_


	20. Chapter 20

"I need to help the doctors here,"I tell Olive, surveying the chaos around us. Too many ínjured, too few supplies and people that know how to help."Have you seen Gale yet?"

"I'll go find him,"she says, going to do so while I move through the room, helping where I can and comforting where I can't. At some point, a hand drops to my shoulder."Soldier Everdeen." It's Boggs, a nasty gash running from his forehead all the way across his right cheek."We have to get you back to Thirteen. The peacekeepers will have informed the Capitol by now."

He sees me hesistate and keeps speaking before I can protest."We don't want them to bring in bombers by making them aware of our presence. And you shouldn't be on your feet."

I follow his gaze to find a tear in my uniform, my leg covered in blood. "Oh,"I say simply, bending to inspect the jagged wound, the pain starting to register."I hadn't noticed."

Boggs nods, his hand still resting on my shoulder. Or maybe holding me up, I'm not entirely sure."You're in shock."

At that moment, Olive comes back with Gale. He looks shaken but unharmed. I hold my arms out to him much like Posy does, and he scoops me up without hesitation. I rest my head against his shoulder and he mumbles reassurences into my hair.

"Back to the landing strip,"Boggs orders. Gale insists on carrying me and I can't even form the words to protest in my mind. The adrenaline rush that overrode the sensation has passed and my body parts join in a chorus of complaints, and all I want to do is sleep or cry or both. We file out, collecting our team on the way. By some miracle, we are all pretty banged up, but still alive. The camera team, Cashmere, Chaff, the soldiers that came with us. Chaff is leaning heavily on Cashmere, and Pollux and Messalla are carrying Castor between them. Cressida is limping heavily, one of Boggs's men - Tinko, I think - is shaking so badly Olive has to grab his arm and guide him along. It takes us about twice as long to get to the landing strip as it did to get to the hospital.

A small hovercraft, different from the one that transported us here, waits on the runway. The second my team's on board, we take off. No comfy seats and windows this time. We seem to be in some sort of cargo craft. I want to take off my vest, since it's covered in things I don't even want to think about, but it's too cold to think about it. I lie on the floor with my head in Gale's lap. The last thing I remember is Boggs spreading a couple of burlap sacks over me.

When I wake up, I'm warm and patched up in a bed in the hospital. My mother's there, checking my vital signs. "How do you feel?"

"I'm okay,"I say, which isn't entirely a lie.

"No one even told me you were going until you were gone," she says. I reach out and she pulls me into a hug."I'm sorry, Mummy. It won't happen again, I promise."

She sighs, likely knowing that is a promise I can't keep, but doesn't say that. Instead, she fills me in on my injuries. My ribs are bruised from what they assume was a bullet hitting my protective vest, and they had to get multiple pieces of shrapnel out of my leg. Other than that, it's just scrapes and bruises.

I've slept right through the late afternoon and night, and I'm starving. My breakfast is disappointingly small. Just a few cubes of bread soaking in warm milk. I've been called down to an early morning meeting at Command, so Olive comes in to take me there in a wheelchair. She has a bandage on her arm and stitches on her forehead, but seems fine otherwise.

"Do you think staying in Eleven when they attacked the hospital was bad enough for Coin to go back on our deal?"I ask, anxiously wringing my hands. Olive considers this for a few moments before answering."No, I don't think so. They got good footage out of it, and Boggs back our decision almost instantly."

I'm a little less worried at that, but I still wouldn't put it past Coin.

When we get to Command, the only ones who've arrived are Cressida, Messalla, and the twins. Messalla beams and says, "There's our little stars!" and the others are smiling so genuinely that I can't help but smile in return.

As more people arrive, I wait for the reprimand that must come. But all I get are curt nods, and even some smiles. Gale sits down next to me, and I give his hand a squeeze."How are you?"

"Fine. They dug out a couple of pieces of shrapnel. No big deal," he says.

Coin calls the meeting to order. "Our Airtime Assault has officially launched. For any of you who missed yesterday's twenty-hundred broadcast of our first propo - or the seventeen reruns Beetee has managed to air since - we will begin by replaying it."

Replaying it? So they not only got usable footage, they've already slapped together a propo and aired it repeatedly. My palms grow moist in anticipation of seeing myself on television. Individual screens slide up from the table, the lights dim slightly, and a hush falls over the room.

At first, my screen is black. Then a tiny spark flickers in the center. It blossoms, spreads, silently eating up the blackness until the entire frame is ablaze with a fire so real and intense, I imagine I feel the heat emanating from it. The image of my mockingjay pin emerges, glowing red-gold. The deep, resonant voice that haunts my dreams begins to speak. Claudius Templesmith, the official announcer of the Hunger Games, says, "Primrose Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, burns on."

Then there's me, just outside the hospital, waiting for the attack, gun at the ready and looking more determined than I remember feeling. Olive, at the front of the forces, rebel peacekeepers and people of Eleven, Argenta stepping forward to make her offer.

Scenes of the battlefield keep flashing as a voiceover starts. I glance at Olive, and she just gives a small shrug. She must have taped it while I was unconcious and not thought to mention it on our way to Command.

"This is what the Capitol does. They target the injured, the defenseless, the weak." Footage of screaming children as the peacekeepers made it into the hospital, then our people forcing them back out. "They have been keeping us down for so long. Starving us, killing us. Deviding us. But no more." Argenta, in her mockingjay-riddled peacekeeper uniform, pulling a young boy out of the line of fire. Cressida, with her all-too-obviously Capitol tattoos side by side with Mica. Chaff and Cashmere in the middle of the fight. Gale throwing Boggs new ammunition. "Together, we are strong. Together, we can fight."

Now comes a truly fantastic montage of the battle. The team did an amazing job, we all look fierce and fearless. There's shots of the rebells, Gale, the Victors, and mostly me and Olive."Together, we can _win_. So, this is a message for President Snow. You can bomb us, you can torture us, you can kill us. But you cannot defeat us." It cuts to the peacekeepers turning on their comrades, then Gale with his bow, followed by footage of the Capitol forces retreating."The inferno is is spreading, Snow. Fire is catching. And if we burn, you burn with us." Flames engulf the screen again. Superimposed on them in black, solid letters are the words:

IF WE BURN

YOU BURN WITH US

The words catch fire and the whole screen burns to blackness.

There's a moment of silent relish, then applause followed by demands to see it again. Coin indulgently hits the replay button, and this time, since I know what will happen, I try to pretend that I'm watching this on my television at home in the Seam. An anti-Capitol statement. There's never been anything like it on television. Not in my lifetime, anyway.

By the time the screen burns to black a second time, I need to know more. "Did it play all over Panem? Did they see it in the Capitol?"

"Not in the Capitol," says Plutarch. "We couldn't override their system anymore, although Beetee's working on it. But in all the districts. We even got it on in Two, which may be more valuable than the Capitol at this point in the game."

"Is Claudius Templesmith with us?" I ask.

This gives Plutarch a good laugh. "Only his voice. But that's ours for the taking. We didn't even have to do any special editing. He said that actual line in your first Games." He slaps his hand on the table. "What say we give another round of applause to Cressida, her amazing team, and, of course, our on-camera talent!"

I clap, too, until I realise I'm the on-camera talent and maybe it's obnoxious that I'm applauding for myself, but no one's paying attention.

Coin seems to have reached the end of her tolerance for self-congratulation. "Yes, well deserved. The result is more than we had hoped for. But I do have to question the wide margin of risk that you were willing to operate within. I know the raid was unforeseen. However, given the circumstances, I think we should discuss the decision to send these girls into actual combat."

The decision? To send us into combat? So they must have kept the orders to retreat that we ignored from her. Interesting.

"It was a tough call," says Plutarch, furrowing his brow. "But the general consensus was that we weren't going to get anything worth using if we locked her in a bunker somewhere every time a gun went off."

"And you're all right with that?" asks the president.

"Yeah, sure,"Olive says, and then kicks me when I just dumbly stare at Coin, not realising I'm supposed to answer aswell. "Oh! Yeah, I'm completely all right with that. It felt good. Doing something for a change."

"Well, let's be just a little more judicious with her exposure. Especially now that the Capitol knows what they can do," says Coin. There's a rumble of assent from around the table.

"So, what else do you have planned?" asks the president.

Plutarch nods to Cressida, who consults a clipboard. "We have some terrific footage of Prim at the hospital in Eleven. There should be another propo in that with the theme 'Because you know who they are and what they do.' We'll focus on Prim interacting with the patients, particularly the children, the attack on the hospital, and the wreckage. Messalla's cutting that together. We're also thinking about a Mockingjay piece. Highlight some of Prim's best moments intercut with scenes of rebel uprisings and war footage. We call that one 'Fire is catching.' And then Fulvia came up with a really brilliant idea."

Fulvia gives the director a small smile. "Well, I don't know how brilliant it is, but I was thinking we could do a series of propos called 'We Remember'. In each one, we would feature one of the dead tributes. Little Rue from Eleven or old Mags from Four. The idea being that we could target each district with a very personal piece."

"A tribute to your tributes, as it were," says Plutarch.

"That is brilliant, Fulvia," I say sincerely. "It's the perfect way to remind people why they're fighting."

"I think it could work," she says. "I thought we might use Finnick to intro and narrate the spots. If there was interest in them."

"Frankly, I don't see how we could have too many 'We Remember' propos," says Coin. "Can you start producing them today?"

"Of course," says Fulvia, obviously happy with the response to her idea.

The president sends everyone off to get to work, so Gale wheels me back to the hospital. Gale has to go meet Beetee down in Special Weaponry and Mum can only stop by for a few minutes before she has to leave again, so I doze off.

_)o(_

_I'm thinking of doing a One Shot companion piece to Inferno like I did for Everybody's Darling because I really miss Effie. And also Jo. yay or nay?_


	21. Chapter 21

I wake up to my mother's voice and roll onto my side to find her. She sitting near my bed, across from Haymitch and asking him a series of questions while mixing some tincture or other. Haymitch seemes vaguely annoyed, which I take as a good sign. Annoyed Haymithc is regular Haymitch.

"Some apples are red. All red things are healthy,"my mother say."Conclusion: Some apples are healthy."

"True,"Haymitch replies with a sigh."Are we done yet?"

My mother ignores the question."Some peacekeepers are rebels. No rebels have guns. Conclusion: No peacekeepers have guns."

"The rebels _have _guns,"my mentor shoots back. Without looking up from her work, Mum snaps her fingers infront of his face in a way that tells me he keeps steering away from what she wants him to do."Focus, Haymitch, or we'll be here all day. True or false?"

He grumbles, but then answers anyway."False."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"I pipe up, deciding to let them know I'm awake. I feel weird just laying there listening to them. They both turn to look at me. My mother instantly comes over, presses a kiss to my forehead and gestures to my bedside table."I saved you your lunch."

I dig in with fervor, my mother reminding me to take it slow every few bites. Haymitch just sits there, looking more bored than anything. I try to exchange a discreet look with Mum, but of course he catches it.

"I'm better, thanks for asking,"he says testily."Not insane or anything." He holds out his empty wrist as if to prove his point. But Olive still has her _Mentally disorientated _bracelet and she seems more put together than Haymitch did the last time I saw him, so I'm not counting that as actual evidence. I nod anyway.

"I took him of all the pills they had him on,"Mum explains."Now the psyhological issues appear to be subsiding."

"See? Not crazy, that's what I'm telling you,"Haymitch interupts. My mother gives us both a bright smile."I'll let you keep eachother company, then. I have other patients to see to."

She leaves us alone, and we sit there in awkward silence for a few minutes, then Haymitch forces a smile."Good work in Eleven, kid. I wish I could've - I don't even know. But I'll be less useless from now on, I promise."

"Good, glad we cleared that up,"I say, because I know arguing that he's ill would be pointless. I offer him a piece of my breadrole soaked in gravy and he accepts."Switch the TV on, Haymitch, will you? Messalla's putting a piece together and I don't want to miss it."

We have the TV on as background noise for a while, until the Capitol seal suddenly flickeres across the screen. Instantly, we both fall silent, staring, absolutely transfixed.

Caesar Flickerman is on screen and I already know who his guest will be.

Katniss's physical transformation is like a punch to the guts. The healthy, clear-eyed girl I saw a few days ago has lost at least fifteen pounds and developed a nervous tremor in her hands, raising the every so often to bite at her nails. They've still got her groomed. But underneath the paint that cannot cover the bags under her eyes, or maybe they didn't really try, and the fine clothes that cannot conceal the pain she feels when she moves, is a person badly damaged.

My mind reels, trying to make sense of it. I just saw her! It was only a few days ago. How has she deteriorated so rapidly? What could they possibly have done to her in such a short time? Then it hits me. I replay in my mind as much as I can of his first interview with Caesar, searching for anything that would place it in time. There is nothing. They could have taped that interview a day or two after we rescued the others from the arena, then done whatever they wanted to do to her ever since. "Oh, Katniss..." I whisper.

Caesar and Katniss have a few empty exchanges before Caesar asks her about rumors that I'm taping propos for the districts. "They're using her, obviously," says Katniss. "To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even really knows what's going on in the war. What's at stake."

"Is there anything you'd like to tell her?" asks Caesar.

"There is," says Katniss. She looks directly into the camera, right into my eyes. "Don't be a fool, Prim. Think for yourself. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you've got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it's too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't...find out."

Black screen. Seal of Panem. Show over.

"Oh, shit,"Haymitch says. I'm too shaken to even think anything.

It's not long before Celeste, Plutarch and Fulvia come into the room. Plutarch gives me one look and sighs."Ah, so you saw. We're doing damage control as we speak, Messalla has his segment almost wrapped up. And luckly, your sister is a horrible actress, no one will really take it seriously. It's obvious she's speaking under duress."

That wasn't what I was worried about, but I nod anyway, numbly staring at the screen even though Katniss has long disappeared from it.


	22. Chapter 22

The rebels aired Messalla's "Because you know who they are and what they do" propo as soon after Katniss's interview as they could and no one seems to think she did too much damage, not when compared to what we did in Eleven. Even after such a short time span, the effect is incredible. We've given them a new sense of hope, something to rally behind.

We're sitting around the table in Command, Haymitch finally able to join aswell, Plutarch's brimming with satisfaction as he shows everyone the before/after effects of the first couple of propos. The rebels have actually taken District Three and the number of defecting peacekeepers has sharply risen. Everyone's confident Eleven will be in rebel hands before the week is out.

"Hopeful. Very hopeful indeed," says Plutarch. "Fulvia's going to have the first round of 'We Remember' spots ready tonight, so we can target the individual districts with their dead. Finnick's absolutely marvelous."

"It's painful to watch, actually," says Celeste. "He knew so many of them personally."

"That's what makes it so effective," says Plutarch. "Straight from the heart. You're all doing beautifully. We could not be more pleased."

Coin only gives that a short nod before proceeding."Now, we want Soldiers Everdeen and Hawthorne back in Twelve, showing the people what Snow's capable of."

Haymitch starts to say something, but Coin cuts him off immediately."You do not have clearance to leave this district, Soldier Abernathy."

"So can I go home, too?"Olive asks eagerly. Then she switches back to her casual, bored expression instantly."For propos, y'know."

"I'm sorry, no. It's just too dangerous,"Plutarch says, and he does sound genuinely sorry."We thought you could film some 'We Remember' spots. There's still a lot to do, and some might be better received coming from you."

Clove's name hangs heavily between us, unspoken but uncomfortable. Olive just shrugs and mutters her agreeance.

Just then, the large screen flickers to life out of its own accord.

"It's programmed to automatically switch on when there's a mandatory broadcast from the Capitol,"Beetee explains in a low voice as everyone turns to face the screen."Keeping up with what the enemy is doing."

The Capitol Seal flashes on screen and then gives way to a nondescript wall. My heart immediately hammers against my chest painfully hard. I recognise that wall. Last time I saw it, Cinna and Portia... Oh my god. My sweaty hand finds Haymitch's and he squeezes so tightly it almost hurts. I know we're both thinking the same thing. _Not Effie, not Effie, please not Effie._

Not anyone, truely, but if it is happening... They can't kill Katniss, or Madge. But Effie...

When they bring out a woman with dark hair, I'm disgustingly relieved for a few seconds. Then Olive's whimpering registers, and I realise I know the woman, too. Her lip is split open and swollen, her hair cut short and unevenly, and an infected brand mark covers half her face, but she's still recognisable. I force myself not to look away even though everything in me screams to not have another death burned into my mind forever. I don't allow myself to think anything, reaching out to place a hand on Olive's shaking arm.

As I watch her walk into position, I realise what the barnd mark is. They burned a Mockingjay onto Terra's face. Head held high and smirking, she wears it like a badge of honour.

They read the list of accusations against her and take postion. Terra spits out in their direction, still not showing any indication of fear."Fuck Snow. And fuck anyone who works for him!"

The sound of gunfire is loud, but not as deafening as the silence that follows.

Then Olive lets out something halfway between a scream and a sob and flees from the room. Coin has the audacity to look annoyed."Someone find her. Contact medical and have her sedated. We can't have her working herself into a freenzy again."

"Fuck you,"I snap at her and run after Olive.

It takes me a while to find her, huddled in an empty corridor behind some pipes, covering her ears and in hysterics. I kneel down infront of her and realise that I don't know what to say. Everything seems too empty, too meaningless. So I just stay there, a hand on her shoulder, and say nothing.

Gale is the next to find us, arriving just in time to place himself between Olive and the adavancing medic."You won't go anywhere near her with that needle if you know what's good for you."

"I'm trying to help,"the medic says, already sounding slightly peeved. Orders straight from Coin apparently aren't checked for whether they even make sense. Plutarch rounds the corner, red in the face from the exertion."Ah, good, you found her. Now, Olive, if you could just go with the medic? And Prim, Gale, we have to get to Twelve soon, we are on a schedule."

"Are you kidding me?"I say, having to raise my voice considerably to be heard over Olive's wailing."We're still doing that?"

Plutarch looks at me as if I'm an idiot."Well, yes, of course. We don't know for how long we'll still have the opportunity. And President Coin wants us to wrap this up."

That's when I remember what I said to the President. Oh, shit. There goes my chance to bargening here... I look from Olive to the medic to Plutarch."Fine. But I'm not leaving her like this. Someone get my mum."

Plutarch nods. "And Finnick,"I add as an afterthought. Other than Gale and I, he's the closest thing to a friend she has here. And he knew Terra."Find her Finnick. I'll wait here."

Finnick arrives first, settling down next to me and reaching a hand out to Olive. After a few seconds hesitation, she crawls out from behind the pipes and into his arms. When Mum arrives, I tell her briefly what's going on and then have to leave at Plutarch's insitance.

I stand, uncommunicative and stiff, a mannequin, as my prep team dresses me, does my hair, and dabs makeup on my face. Not enough to show, only enough to make me look somewhat put together.

No one speaks on the way to Twelve.

Once there, Cressida directs the team to start with me at my old house in the Seam. I ask her what she wants me to do. "Whatever you feel like," she says. Standing back in my kitchen, I don't feel like doing anything, except maybe crying. In fact, I find myself focusing up at the sky - the only roof left - because too many memories are drowning me. After a while, Cressida says, "That's fine, Prim. Let's move on."

Gale doesn't get off so easily at his old address. Cressida films him in silence for a few minutes, but just as he pulls the one remnant of his previous life from the ashes - a twisted metal poker - she starts to question him about his family, his job, life in the Seam. She makes him go back to the night of the firebombing and reenact it, starting at his house, working his way down across the Meadow and through the woods to the lake. Even after we've left behind the charred stumps near the fence, we're still tripping over decomposing bodies. Do we have to record it for everyone to see?

By the time we reach the lake, Gale seems to have lost his ability to speak. Everyone's dripping in sweat - especially Castor and Pollux in their insect shells - and Cressida calls for a break. I scoop up handfuls of water from the lake, wishing I could dive in and surface alone and naked and unobserved. I wander around the perimeter for a while. When I come back around to the little concrete house beside the lake, I pause in the doorway and see Gale propping the crooked poker he salvaged against the wall by the hearth. For a moment I have an image of a lone stranger, sometime far in the future, wandering lost in the wilderness and coming upon this small place of refuge, with the pile of split logs, the hearth, the poker. Wondering how it came to be.

Cheese sandwiches are passed around and we eat them in the shade of the trees. I intentionally sit at the far edge of the group, next to Pollux, so I don't have to talk. No one's talking much, really. In the relative quiet, the birds take back the woods. I nudge Pollux with my elbow and point out a small black bird with a crown. It hops to a new branch, momentarily opening its wings, showing off its white patches. Pollux gestures to my pin and raises his eyebrows questioningly. I nod, confirming it's a mockingjay. I hold up one finger to say _Wait, I'll show you_, and whistle a birdcall. The mockingjay cocks its head and whistles the call right back at me. Then, to my surprise, Pollux whistles a few notes of his own. The bird answers him immediately. Pollux's face breaks into an expression of delight and he has a series of melodic exchanges with the mockingjay. My guess is it's the first conversation he's had in years. Music draws mockingjays like blossoms do bees, and in a short while he's got half a dozen of them perched in the branches over our heads. He taps me on the arm and uses a twig to write a word in the dirt. _SING?_

Without thinking about it, I sing out Rue's four note song. The mockingjays pick up the simple phrase and bounce it back and forth between them in sweet harmony. Just as they did in the Hunger Games. Before Rue died soaked in her own blood, before -

"D'you want a real song?"I ask quickly, having to push the memories away. The song springs to my mind without me being able to explain it. Maybe it's the darkness of it, or the hints of rebellion, or just that it's forbidden. Maybe it's because I have a vague memory of Katniss singing it to me, twisting rope into necklaces in her childish innocence. I never asked her if that really happened, too afraid she'd want to know where I'd learned that song. I thought it would get Rory in trouble for teaching me. How silly that all seems now...

"Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Where they strung up a man they say murdered three.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

The mockingjays begin to alter their songs as they become aware of my new offering.

"Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

I have the birds' attention now. In one more verse, surely they will have captured the melody, as it's simple and repeats four times with little variation.

"Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

A hush in the trees. Just the rustle of leaves in the breeze. But no birds, mockingjay or other.

"Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

The birds are waiting for me to continue. But that's it. Last verse. I'm not sure when I've gotten to my feet, but I must have, because now I'm standing near a tree, gazing up at the leaves that rustle with mockingjays. As I glance sideways, I see Castor has been taping me. Everyone is watching me intently. And Pollux has tears running down his cheeks because no doubt my freaky song has dredged up some terrible incident in his life. Great. I sigh and lean back against the trunk. That's when the mockingjays begin their rendition of "The Hanging Tree." In their mouths, it's quite beautiful. Conscious of being filmed, I stand quietly until I hear Cressida call, "Cut!"

Plutarch crosses to me, laughing. "Where do you come up with this stuff? No one would believe it if we made it up!" He throws an arm around me and kisses me on the top of my head with a loud smack."You're golden!"

"I wasn't doing it for the cameras," I say testily.

"Lucky they were on, then," he says. "Come on, everybody, back to town!"

As we stand before the lump of metal that was the gallows, Cressida asks if either of us has ever been tortured. I shake my head, and then tell the story of what happened to my sister here. There's a lump in my throat by the time I'm done but I make myself look straight into the camera anyways."Katniss, that's how I know you aren't really calling for a ceasefire. You know exactly what they do to us."

When we make it to the Mellarks' old bakery, or rather what is left of it, I can't hold it together anymore."I'm done,"I announce."I wanna go back."

I almost say _back home _but I don't know where that is anymore.

_)o(_

_uhm yeah sooooo_

_I'll miss Terra :/ but you probably all figured there was no way she was going to survive, especially if you've read Cinder_

_have I mentioned Cinder here yet? it's the OS-Collection to go with Inferno_


	23. Chapter 23

After dropping off my Mockingjay suit, I go straight to the hospital to see Olive. She's in one of the beds, looking much younger than usual, almost lost. Finnick's sitting next to her bed and give me a small smile when I walk in. He was assigned quarters on my old floor, but he has so many mental relapses, he still basically lives in the hospital. Plus, there's no way he'd leave Olive alone anyways.

"Did they sedate her?"I ask in a whisper. I honestly wouldn't put it past them. Finnick shakes his head."No, they didn't, but not for lack of intention. Your mother went off on them like you wouldn't believe. You need to toe the line for a while, I can't imagine Coin'll be pleased once it gets back to her."

He looks rather delighted as he tells me this, though, and I also can't keep from grinning. The one good thing to come from this whole disaster that is the last year and a half of my life is that it somehow seems to have given my mother a fierce sense of purpose.

I sit down next to Finnick, looking at Olive. She looks almost peaceful right now."Is she going to be okay?"

It's a really stupid question, but it slips out before I can stop myself. Finnick gently squeezes my hand in reply."As okay as any of us will ever be, Prim."

We sit in silence for a while, just keeping eachother company, until Boggs finds us.

"There's a meeting in Command. Disregard your current schedule," he says, gracefully ignoring that I'm already disregarding my schedule anyways. I get up and give Finnick an uncertain look. He makes a shooing motion at me."Go ahead, I'm staying with Liv."

In Command, I scan the room until I find Haymitch and then walk over to sit down next to him."What's up? More propos?"

"I don't know,"he admits, jerking his head towards Coin."She won't tell us anything until everyone's here."

We have to wait a few more tense minutes until the president calls the meeting to order, explaining that we've gotten hold of some Capitol datasets. They've already been evaluated and decoded as well as was possible, but she wants to go them through with the whole group anyway, and also bring everyone up to speed.

There's a bunch of stuff about armories and nourishment and similar things, although the rebels had already had a good guess about the Capitol's capacities. Then there's some codes Beetee, Wiress, and a team from Thirteen are still working on; Coin wants to see if the system is familiar to anyone - and indeed, Celeste has a rough idea of where to start with it. Apparently, it's based on a thing some Gamemakers used to operate with.

On and on it goes, and most of it is quite honestly gibberish to me. The first thing that is easily comprehensible is a list of surnames combined with dates and times.

"We're assuming this is their schedule for executions,"Coin says, her tone as neutral as always."It still has Hayden on it, as you can see, so it hasn't been updated in the last day, although the time stamp was correct."

I stop listening, frantically scanning the list. Everdeen's not on it, nor is Undersee, or Mason.

But Trinket is.

I turn to look at Haymitch, unable to even make a sound in my horror.

"You have to get her out,"he says, interupting whatever Coin was still talking about. She stops speaking to give him an icy glare, but it does not throw him off."There's still time. You have to get her out."

By now the whole room is staring at him. I'm still too numb to do anything but stare myself, feeling as if someone dropped me into ice water.

"You have to get her out,"Haymitch repeats. Coin looks from him to the list in mock-confusion, then back again."Soldier Abernathy, surely you can't be suggesting we risk a team to retrieve your escort?"

"I'm not asking you to retrieve my escort,"he says so calmly I know he's about to explode."I'm _telling _you to retrieve my _wife_."

For a second, I think I must have misheard. But everyone else seems to have heard the exact same thing. Even Coin can only muster one word."What?"

"Ah, yes, about that,"Plutarch says, rummaging through one of his folders while giving the president an apologetic smile."I didn't thing it was worth mentioning, but now that it's come up -"

He pulls a piece of paper out and I snatch it out of his hand before Coin can react. She's too busy glaring at him, anyway."You knew of this and didn't think it was worth mentioning?"

"You got married and didn't tell me?"I hiss at Haymitch at the same time, staring at the document I'm now holding. As far as I can tell, it's the real deal. That's when I notice the date. Now all heads turn to me at my disbelieving shriek."You got married _on my Victory Tour _and didn't tell me? What is wrong with you?"

Before anyone can say anything else, Coin declares the meeting over and storms out, Plutarch and Boggs hurrying after her. I grab Haymitch by the arm and drag him out aswell. We have to talk, and I'm pretty sure atleast Command is bugged.

"It makes her a more obvious pressure point,"Haymitch says before I can even ask."She knows too much. And the Capitol doesn't take kindly to traitors. Not to mention I might have a better haggling position here now. Letting an escort die is one thing, but a Victor's wife?" He shakes his head and pulls his arm from my grasp, not ungently."We don't have time to discuss this, kid. I have to get Plutarch to do something."

He starts walking away but then turns back."And you just keep out of it until I tell you otherwise. Coin hates you more than she hates me."

I only nod, staying rooted to the spot and sending a prayer to whatever there might be.

* * *

_ya I went there my otp is married sue me_

_they're so effing canon anyway like okay... just... okay?_

_also in this scenario Effie is like neckdeep in the rebellion cause Prim trust her more than Katniss ever did_

_foolish babygirl Katniss you are so blind my dear_

_._

_._

**_massive spoiler coming up but I feel the need to add this (do not read if you don't want to be spoiled)_**

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_I am not, I repeat, NOT killing Effie_

_idk I just feel like it should be obvious I won't because I love her so much but also you guys would probably not put it past me as I murder lovely characters left, right and centre sooooooooooo_

_all will be well, no killing Effie, pinky promise_


	24. Chapter 24

I've been pacing in the hallway outside Command for what feels like forever. Haymitch told me to stay out of it all and I trust him, have to trust him on this, because there is nothing else I can do. But time has ticked past and I have no news of him succeeding, no hint of any rescue mission, no nothing. All I have is Rory, who's leaning against the wall and watching me silently, not offering any meaningless words of reassurence that it'll be alright, just the quiet knowledge that he'll be there when it won't.

It's not until Gale, Olive, and Finnick walk up the corridor that I know it's too late. They've come to see the inevitable.

Finnick is deathly pale and - I can regconise it only because I've seen it before - on the verge of a panic attack. Olive looks as lost as she did when I last saw her, twisting a piece of rope between her shaking hands, having taken up Finnick's way of soothing himself. Gale has a hand laid on her shoulder as casually as possibly but it looks almost as if he needs to steer her or thinks she's about to bolt.

Rory hugs me fiercely before I step into the room he has no access to.

The atmosphere here is no better. Coin has her arms crossed, expression unwavering as she surveys the room. Plutarch looks resigned and guilt-ridden, Fulvia as if she's about to throw up or pass out. Celeste is sitting slightly apart from them, silent tears running down her face. Haymitch is surrounded by the remaining Victors, even Cashmere, who isn't particularly close to anyone but Finnick. Desperate times pull us together, I guess.

I push into their middle and uncerimoniously climb onto Haymitch's lap, curling up like a small child. As his shaking arms encircle me I'm not entirely sure who's offering comfort to whom. All we can do now is helplessly watch as the screen flickers to life.

It doesn't take long and eerie silence falls over the room. All I want to do is to bury my face against Haymitch's shoulder, or better yet, run from the room. Instead, I force myself to remain fixed on the screen, watching without so much as blinking. _You owe her that much,_ I remind myself.

I don't understand right away when they bring out the man, beaten, bruised, and frightend. His hair is covered in blood and grime, but I can still make out the light blue of it, suddenly knowing it will match his eyes exactly when he lifts his gaze. "Emmanuel,"I say softly. The kind man who rescued me from Octavius Templesmith's overeager clutches. Effie's cousin. It takes me another few seconds to realise why the Capitol's list was only by surnames, and why they allowed us to get it in the first place.

"They're fucking with us,"Chaff puts my thoughts into words."They're just trying to fuck with our heads."

Trying and succeeding.

I turn away from the screen, instead looking to my mentor, a sense of sorrow for Emmanuel barely making a dent in my overwhelming sense of relief. I'd feel guilty for it if I didn't see it so clearly mirrored on Haymitch's face.

Minutes later, we're all ushered out of Command and told to return to our schedules. Mine has combat training next, which I take to mean I'll ignore the schedule from now on. Gale has Weaponry with Beetee, Olive has no schedule and thus no hunting time until she gets the medics' all clear, and Rory and I are not allowed into the woods alone. And there is no way I'm going to actual combat training. It has the potential to trigger me on the best of days, and this is really not one of them.

So instead, I sidle off to the hospital with Olive and Finnick. We sit around and talk for a few hours until Gale comes and finds us to inform us we're wanted in Command.

"What's going on?"I ask as we walk."Did something happen?"

Gale shrugs, also looking worried."I think Cressida just wants to show us the Twelve propos, but I'm not sure."

People have crowded into Command, but they've saved seats for me and Olive. The screens are already up on the table, showing the regular Capitol feed.

"What's going on? Aren't we seeing the Twelve propos?" I ask.

"Oh, no," says Plutarch. "I mean, possibly. I don't know exactly what footage Beetee plans to use."

"Beetee thinks he's found a way to break into the feed nationwide," says Haymitch. "So that our propos will air in the Capitol, too. He's down working on it in Special Defense now. There's live programming tonight. Snow's making an appearance or something. I think it's starting."

The Capitol seal appears, underscored by the anthem. Then I'm staring directly into President Snow's snake eyes as he greets the nation. He seems barricaded behind his podium, but the white rose in his lapel is in full view. The camera pulls back and I think we all expect to see Katniss, so it's a shock when it isn't her. Panic rises in my chest at the thought of why they might have stopped using her, but I firmly push it down for now.

"Who is that?"someone asks and I realise most people here won't recognise Effie without her wigs and make-up. And that's without even mentioning the state she's in. They've clearly made an attempt to clean her up, but it was either last minute or very half-hearted. She looks about ready to faint from sheer exhaustion, there's a nasty, half-healed cut on her cheek and the way she holds her left arm makes me think her shoulder might be dislocated. I can barely even bring myself to acknowledge the clearly finger-shaped bruises on her throat, but her slightly hoarse voice makes them impossible to ignore. I grab Haymitch's hand, needing some sort of anchor.

Snow says some nonsense about traitors and the Capitol's generosity and cease fires, then prompts Effie into some clearly pre-written statement.

Bam! Without warning, I'm suddenly on television, standing in the rubble of my home district.

Plutarch jumps to his feet. "He did it! Beetee broke in!"

Then Effie's back on screen, her lips moving soundlessly, eyes fixed to the side of the stage. She must have seen me on the monitor.

"She's going to do something stupid,"Haymitch says next to me."She figured out she's live." He's not talking to me as much as the screen now."Oh god, don't. Sweetheart, don't."

I'm still trying to follow his reasoning when a clip of Finnick talking about Thresh replaces Effie. And then the whole thing breaks down into a broadcast battle, as the Capitol tech masters try to fend off Beetee's attack. But they are unprepared, and Beetee, apparently anticipating he would not hold on to control, has an arsenal of five- to ten-second clips to work with. We watch the official presentation deteriorate as it's peppered with choice shots from the propos.

Plutarch's in spasms of delight and most everybody is cheering Beetee on, but all I can think of is what this means for Effie and where the hell they have my sister.

The Capitol seal's back up, accompanied by a flat audio tone. This lasts about twenty seconds before Snow and Effie return. The set is in turmoil. We're hearing frantic exchanges from their booth. Snow plows forward, saying that clearly the rebels are now attempting to disrupt the dissemination of information they find incriminating, but both truth and justice will reign. The full broadcast will resume when security has been reinstated. He asks Effie if, given tonight's demonstration, she has any parting thoughts for Primrose Everdeen.

"Indeed I do,"she says so pleasantly you'd think she was chatting to a friend over tea and biscuits. That's when I know Haymitch is right and she's going to do something reckless. Effie gives the President her brightest, fakest escort smile and then looks directly into the camera."They're going to bomb Thirteen."

Off camera, Snow orders, "End it!"

Beetee throws the whole thing into chaos by flashing a still shot of me standing in front of the hospital at three-second intervals. But between the images, we are privy to the real-life action being played out on the set. Effie's attempt to continue speaking. The camera knocked down to record the white tiled floor. The scuffle of boots. The impact of the blow that's inseparable from Effie's cry of pain.

And her blood as it splatters the tiles.

_)o(_

_oooops the update is like 15 minutes late sorry :/_

_I'll try to make up for it by getting up a chapter for _Cinder _to see how Katniss is doing and why they had to use Effie for this instead_

_that bit them right on the ass though, didn't it?_


	25. Chapter 25

The scream that falls from my lips gets lost in the uproar of the room. Everyone's shouting over eachother, discussing what we just heard, questions and demands ringing out. No one seems concerned with what's happening to Effie. Gale pulls me into his arms, and it's only then that I realise I have gotten to my feet at some point and haven't stopped screaming. I bury my face against his chest and sob.

Then Haymitch's voice cuts through the racket."Shut up! Why are you still talking? We're about to be attacked. Here. In Thirteen."

"How would she have that information?"

"Why should we trust her?"

"How do you know?"

Haymitch gives a growl of frustration. "They're beating her bloody while we speak. What more do you need? Prim, Finnick, someone help me out here!"

I try to speak but Finn beats me to it. "Haymitch's right. I don't know where Effie got the information. Or if it's even true. But she believes it is. And they're - " He leaves the sentence hanging, unable to finish it.

"You don't know her," Haymitch says to Coin. "We do. Get your people ready."

The president doesn't seem alarmed, only somewhat perplexed, by this turn in events. She mulls over the words, tapping one finger lightly on the rim of the control board in front of her. When she speaks, she addresses Haymitch in an even voice. "Of course, we have prepared for such a scenario. Although we have decades of support for the assumption that further direct attacks on Thirteen would be counterproductive to the Capitol's cause. Nuclear missiles would release radiation into the atmosphere, with incalculable environmental results. Even routine bombing could badly damage our military compound, which we know they hope to regain. And, of course, they invite a counterstrike. It is conceivable that, given our current alliance with the rebels, those would be viewed as acceptable risks."

"You think so?" says Haymitch. It's a shade too sincere, but the subtleties of irony are often wasted in Thirteen.

"I do. At any rate, we're overdue for a Level Five security drill," says Coin. "Let's proceed with the lockdown." She begins to type rapidly on her keyboard, authorizing her decision. The moment she raises her head, it begins.

A wordless, eardrum-piercing, fear-inducing siren starts shrieking and it seems to me the best way to cause a panic, but here in Thirteen such things just don't happen. We leave Command, Boggs leading the way. Streams of people are converging to form a river that flows only downward. No one shrieks or tries to push ahead. Even the children don't resist.I'm looking for Mum and Rory, for Livia and Estelle, but I can't spot anyone. But there's no way they could miss the sirens. Gale leaves my side when he sees Posy a bit ahead of us, biting back tears as she walks with her teacher and a class of tiny children. I'm down a whole flight of stairs before I remember Buttercup.

I turn around and make my way back. It's slow going against the tide of people going the other way, but if I squeeze against the rail it's possible. I only notice Olive's behind me when I'm in the corridor again. There's more room, now, as almost everyone has made it to the staircase.

"Where are we going?"she asks, suddenly sounding alive again. Excited."I left Finn to distract Boggs, no one's coming for us."

"I'm getting my cat,"I admit, breaking into a run. She's stunned, for a second, then laughs and follows me."You're a fucking weirdo, Everdeen. I like it."

I burst into our compartment to find Buttercup pacing the room and howling. I kneel down and scoop him up, burying my face in his fur."Oh, you good boy, you came back to protect us."

"Not to rush you or anything,"Olive says, stuffing a few things indiscriminately into my sister's old gamebag."But bombs and stuff. Let's go, yeah?"

"One second,"I say, handing her our plant book to add to the bag and grabbing Mum and Dad's wedding picture as well as Amber's portrait. I look around the room."Okay, now."

We race back down the stairs, and when we're almost there I hear Haymitch shouting, even though I can't make out what.

"We're coming!"I scream, just in case. At the same time, Olive shouts,"Hold the door!"

Haymitch has his shoulder wedged into the last open space of the door, yelling for them to open it again. Once they do, he turns to yelling at me and Olive for being 'absolute fucking idiots' instead.

For a few blissful seconds, we forget the gravity of the situation and break out in almost hysterical laughter. Only when the bunker door closes behind us with a terribly final CLUNK does reality sink back in.


	26. Chapter 26

We wave our schedules in front of a scanner so that we're accounted for before walking further into the bunker. No doubt the information's going to some computer somewhere to make sure no one's gone astray.

The place seems unable to decide if it's natural or man-made. Certain areas of the walls are stone, while steel beams and concrete heavily reinforce others. Sleeping bunks are hewn right into the rock walls. There's a kitchen, bathrooms, a first-aid station. This place was designed for an extended stay.

White signs with letters or numbers are placed at intervals around the cavern. Haymitch tells us we have to head to the area that matches our assigned quarters - E in our case - and Olive and I head over.

Plutarch strolls up when we're halfway there. "Ah, here you are," he says. Recent events have had little effect on Plutarch's mood. He still has a happy glow from Beetee's success on the Airtime Assault. Eyes on the forest, not on the trees. Not on Effie's punishment or Thirteen's imminent blasting. "Prim, obviously this is a bad moment for you, but you need to be aware that others will be watching you."

"What?" I say.

"The other people in the bunker, they'll be taking their cue on how to react from you. If you're calm and brave, others will try to be as well. If you panic, it could spread like wildfire," explains Plutarch. I just stare at him. "Fire is catching, so to speak," he continues, as if I'm being slow on the uptake.

"Right,"I say slowly, trying to keep in my annoyance."I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"Wonderful! I've got to get back to Coin before lockdown. You keep up the good work!" he says, and then heads off.

"This is it, I guess,"Olive says suddenly. Our space consists of a twelve-by-twelve-foot square of stone floor delineated by painted lines. Carved into the wall are two bunks - I guess I'll share with my mother - and a ground-level cube space for storage. A piece of white paper, coated in clear plastic, reads BUNKERPROTOCOL.

"On arrival,"Olive reads out."Make sure all members of your Compartment are accounted for."

I look around for my mother. It takes me a bit to find her. She's at the the Supply Station, a deep room set off by a counter. People wait behind it, but there's not a lot of activity there anymore. I guess she can't have gotten here much before us, she probably had to help relocate patients first. I go over to her and take one of the packs from her.

Back at the bunk, we set up everything as per instructions, not that there is really a lot to do. Olive climbs onto one of the bunks and throws an arm across her face, blocking out the lights. I settle Buttercup on the other bunk, draping him in a blanket so only his face sticks out. That's how he likes to be when there's thunder. "It'll get really loud and scary,"I tell him."But we'll be okay, I promise."

The faint sound of the sirens cuts off sharply. Coin's voice comes over the district audio system, thanking us all for an exemplary evacuation of the upper levels. She stresses that this is not a drill.

That's when the first bomb hits. There's an initial sense of impact followed by an explosion that resonates in my innermost parts, the lining of my intestines, the marrow of my bones, the roots of my 're all going to die, I think. My eyes turn upward, expecting to see giant cracks race across the ceiling, massive chunks of stone raining down on us, but the bunker itself gives only a slight shudder. The lights go out and I experience the disorientation of total darkness. Speechless human sounds - spontaneous shrieks, ragged breaths, baby whimpers, one musical bit of insane laughter - dance around in the charged air. Then there's a hum of a generator, and a dim wavering glow replaces the stark lighting that is the norm in Thirteen. It's closer to what we had in our homes in Twelve, when the candles and fire burned low on a winter's night.

Probably a bunker missile. We learned about them during the orientation for new citizens. They're designed to penetrate deep in the ground before they go off. Because there's no point in bombing Thirteen on the surface anymore. I don't even want to think about the possibility of them being nuclear, crooning to Buttercup as much as myself now."It's all right, baby, it's all right. We'll be okay down here."

"We're so far down, I'm sure we're safe," says my mother wanly. She's sitting close to me, a hand resting lightly on my arm, shaking ever-so-slightly."It was a close call, though. Thank goodness Effie had the wherewithal to warn us."

I turn from Buttercup to Mum, unsure how to answer that. I don't think she's ever called Effie by her name before, it was always 'your escort'. I only give her a small smile in lieu of replying.

Coin's voice, perhaps a shade grimmer, fills the bunker, the volume level flickering with the lights. "Apparently, Effie Trinket's information was sound and we owe her a great debt of gratitude. Sensors indicate the first missile was not nuclear, but very powerful. We expect more will follow. For the duration of the attack, citizens are to stay in their assigned areas unless otherwise notified."

A soldier alerts my mother that she's needed in the first-aid station. She's reluctant to leave me, even though she'll only be thirty yards away. I kiss her cheek and send her on her way."I'll be fine. I have Buttercup and Olive. What's gonna get past them?"

We're given clearance in small groups to use the bathroom and brush our teeth, although showering has been canceled for the day. Rory casually leaves his group and slips over to mine on our way back.

"I hope you don't mind?"he says with a cheeky grin, lacing our fingers together."I thought I'd see how you're doing. Plus, it's so cold in here, Ma was going to make me sleep in a bunk with Vick for warmth. Let him kick Gale all night instead."

I laugh, which I really needed right now. Then I raise an eyebrow at Rory."So you thought I'd let you crash with me?"

"Hoped,"he says, and that one word sends butterflies throughout my whole body. Olive ruins the mood by gagging in an exaggerated fashion."You two disgust me. But hand over the extra blanket and we're cool."

I let go of Rory's hand to give Olive a shove, but I give her the blanket anyways. It really is uncomfortably chilly here.

I curl up with Rory and Buttercup, close my eyes, and do my best not to think about anything but Rory's warm breath on the back of my neck.

_)o(_

_I am prory trash (:_


	27. Chapter 27

We receive next to no information about what is happening. Our screens never come on, and we get only brief audio updates from Coin about the nature of the bombs. Certainly, the war is still being waged, but as to its status, we're in the dark.  
Inside the bunker, cooperation is the order of the day. We adhere to a strict schedule for meals and bathing, exercise and sleep. Small periods of socialization are granted to alleviate the tedium. Our space becomes very popular because both children and adults have a fascination with Buttercup. He attains celebrity status with his evening game of Crazy Cat. Katniss accidentally created the game a few winters ago and I've loved it ever since. It's so wonderful to watch Buttercup jump and turn, taking his time to guess where the light will go next, and the people here in Thirteen agree that he's just delightful.

I'm even issued a special set of batteries - an enormous waste - to be used for the game.

Olive can't stand having so many people crowding around our space and sidles off to Finnick's pretty soon. That's good in my opinion, though, as they help keep eachother put together. They're so intent on the other not falling apart, they forget about their own issues for a bit.

After Olive left, Vick and Posy immediately lay claim to her bunk, as that will get them closest to everyone's favourite past-time. No one says anything about it. I guess it's because they're all just as starved for entertainment as the Hawthorne kids.

We're int the bunker for a full three days until Coin finally announces we can leave the bunker. Our old quarters have been destroyed by the bombings. Everyone must follow exact directions to their new compartments. We clean our spaces, as directed, and file obediently toward the door.

Boggs heads me off when I get in line, collecting Olive, Finnick, and Gale along the way.

People move aside to let us by. Out the door, up the stairs, down the hall to one of those multidirectional elevators, and finally we arrive at Special Defense. Nothing along our route has been damaged, but we are still very deep.

Boggs ushers us into a room virtually identical to Command. Coin, Plutarch, Haymitch, Cressida, and everybody else around the table looks exhausted. Someone has finally broken out the coffee - although I'm sure it's viewed only as an emergency stimulant - and Plutarch has both hands wrapped tightly around his cup as if at any moment it might be taken away.

There's no small talk. "We need all four of you suited up and above ground," says the president. "You have two hours to get footage showing the damage from the bombing, establish that Thirteen's military unit remains not only functional but dominant, and, most important, that the Mockingjay is still alive. Any questions?"

"Is there a rescue mission?"I ask, taking Coin as my example and not bothering with any preamble."Effie and the others. Are you finally getting them?"

"No,"she says, as if that's all there is to be said. I straighten my back and stare right at her."Fine. Then I'm not doing your shoot."

Plutarch leans forward, still clutching his cup."Primrose, you need to be seen. If not, that could severely demoralise the rebels."

"I don't care,"I say calmly. The ex Gamemaker frowns, then says,"I have people on the inside. But it would be very costly -"

I cut him off before he can say anything else."I don't care."

"I don't think you quite understand,"Plutarch presses,"Covers will be blown. People will die."

Everything inside of me is screaming that I can't damn who knows how many people for a small chance to get a few people back. But I focus on the cold, steel core of my mind and repeat myself again, dropping every word into the room with a calm that surprises even myself."I. Don't. Care."

Plutarch looks around the room for someone to help him, but my three comrades won't budge either. Haymitch gives me a small nod, and that's enough. I'm right, no matter how horrible I sound. Or maybe I'm wrong, but none of us care. I give the room at large a pleasant smile."So, agreed? We're getting them back."

This is followed by an intense discussion that ends with Coin throwing up her hands in exasperation."We'll do it." Then she switches back to her calm, collected persona."We can spin this to our advantage. Breaching Snow's highest security prison, getting hostages of value back. We can work with that. But you," she levels a glare at me that makes me shrink into my seat,"get infront of a camera right this instant."

Boggs gestures for one of his soldiers to go with me, he himself staying behind to talk strategy. The soldier gives me a small smile and I recognise him as Tinko, one of the soldiers that was with us in Eleven.

In my new Remake Room in Special Defense, my prep team slaps me into my Mockingjay suit, arranges my hair, and applies minimal makeup. In ten minutes, the cast and crew of the next propos are making the circuitous trek to the outside.

After climbing a final ladder, Tinko hits a lever that opens a trapdoor. Fresh air rushes in. I take big gulps and for the first time allow myself to feel how much I hated the bunker. We emerge into the woods, and my hands run through the leaves overhead.

Debris begins to litter the forest floor. We come to our first crater, thirty yards wide and I can't tell how deep. Very. Tinko says anyone on the first ten levels would likely have been killed. We skirt the pit and continue on.

"How much time did Effie's warning buy us?"I ask. He considers this, then apparently decides there's no harm in answering."About ten minutes before our own systems would've detected the missiles. But even a few seconds can mean everything in such a situation. We owe her a great debt."

I only nod to that. Hopeful it's enough for them to actually get her back alive. Get everyone back alive.

As we approach what used to be the grand entrance, Messalla points out something and the whole party slows down. I don't know what the problem is at first and then I see the ground strewn with fresh blue roses. "Don't touch them!" I yell. "They're for me!"

The sickeningly sweet smell hits my nose, and my heart begins to hammer against my chest. So I didn't imagine it. The rose on my dresser. Before me lies Snow's second delivery. Long-stemmed blue beauties, the very flowers that decorated the set where I performed my post-victory interview. At the time, I hadn't thought much of it – the decor had matched my eyes, my dress and shoes – but looking back, I can tell it was a way for Snow to lay the Capitol's claim to me.

I explain to the others as best I can, gagging at the stench of the flowers. Upon inspection, they appear to be harmless, if genetically enhanced, flowers. Two dozen roses. Slightly wilted. Most likely dropped after the last bombing. A crew in special suits collects them and carts them away. I feel certain they will find nothing extraordinary in them, though. Snow knows exactly what he's doing to me. He's only messing with my head.

I force myself to forget about the roses, about Snow, about the strategy meeting taking place at this very moment. About the fact that the fate of my sister and friends will be decided today.

"So, what exactly do you need from me again?" I ask.

"Just a few quick lines that show you're alive and still fighting," says Cressida. I nod and take my position, drawing in a few deep breaths as I stare into the red light of the camera. I try my best to look more confident then I feel.

Chin up, back straight, smile on.

"Here in Thirteen, we've just gotten through the Capitol bombing,"I announce to the camera."As we all know, Snow's quite good at destroying things. But what he didn't count on is that _we _are good at surviving. Which is why Thirteen is alive and well, and so am I."

I glance at Cressida and she nods, encouraging me to keep going."What I want the people of Panem to realise is that, no matter who you are, you can help us win this fight. There's people of all districts here in Thirteen and the warning of what was going to happen came straight from the Capitol. The people there aren't our enemies, Snow and his regime are. We demand freedom, he answers with violence. But it's going to take a lot more than some bombs to shake us, and nothing will make us give up. United we stand, united we fight, united we win."

"Cut,"Cressida calls out and I stand at ease, looking at her expectantly."Any good, do you think?"

She gives me an incredulous look and then a bright smile."Absolutely perfect, Prim."

I thank her quietly. Finnick and Olive come walking up to us - or, in the latter's case, sullenly stomping. Finn turns to the director."We're to shoot something aswell. Where do you want me?"

"What's wrong?"I ask Olive. She sighs and rolls her eyes."They already dispatched the rescue team. Volunteer only. And you know what they said? I couldn't go! I couldn't even go, Prim. Because I'm apparently _menatlly unstable _and a _risk to everyone's safety_." She says this in a mocking, high-pitched voice while making airqoutes."Bunch of twits. Wouldn't let Finn go either, though that I understand, I guess."

"They already left?"I ask. Then the word 'volunteers' seeps into my brain. I look around to see if anyone else followed her. No such look. My hands are instantly sweaty."Where's Gale?"

Olive looks more annoyed than worried."Oh, _he_ was allowed to go."

_)o(_

_I'm so tired I had to work today I do not like working on sundays tired uuuugh_


	28. Chapter 28

I chew on my lower lip, watching as Olive shoots a short clip aswell."So now what? We just wait?"  
"And try to distract them,"Haymitch says."There was even talk of sending you into a district to keep Snow's eyes elsewhere."  
I nod at that."Yes, I'll do it. When can we leave?"  
"I already vetoed the idea,"my mentor tells me. I frown at him, confused."What? Why? I can do it, I'm ready. I'll be okay. I want to help."

Haymitch sighs heavily."I know you do, kid. I'm not doubting you." He warily runs his hands through his hair."It's not that. Boggs is leading the rescue. Gale's on the team, so's Cashmere. Finnick and Olive won't get clearance to leave Thirteen; I definitely won't. Who does that leave to come with you? Protect you?"

"You don't trust Coin,"I state quietly. It really isn't a question. He won't let me make a move that could risk my saftey without atleast having some kind of protection we can rely on. Especially not when, at the same time, so many of the others are at risk. I give a small smile."I don't, either."

"Good,"he replies simply.

We stand in silence for a bit, watching the others. Then, I speak again."So what can we do? To distract them?"

"What we really need is something so riveting that even President Snow won't be able to tear himself away. Got anything like that?" asks Haymitch.

"I might have something like that."

I almost jump out of my skin, not having noticed Finnick coming up to us. Haymitch and I both turn towards him, my mentor with raised eyebrows."Oh? You do?"

Finnick nods, pale yet determined. Then he walks over to Plutarch without another word.

Haymitch swears under his breath and follows the younger Victor. I stay behind, perplexed. Why is Haymitch so upset? Whatever Finnick can say, it must help us, surely. The Capitol adores him, all eyes will remain glued to him.

As Finnick moves to take a seat before the camera, Haymitch tells him, "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do. If it will help her." Finnick balls up his rope in his hand. "I'm ready."

A split second before he starts talking, I realise what he will speak about.

"President Snow used to...sell me...my body, that is," Finnick begins in a flat, removed tone. "I wasn't the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love. So you do it."

He stops for a few seconds, taking in a deep breath.

"I wasn't the only one, but I was the most popular," he says. "And perhaps the most defenseless, because the people I loved were so defenseless. To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry, but I found a much more valuable form of payment."

Another pause, purely for effect this time.

"Secrets. And this is where you're going to want to stay tuned, President Snow, because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some of the others."

Finnick begins to weave a tapestry so rich in detail that you can't doubt its authenticity. Tales of strange sexual appetites, betrayals of the heart, bottomless greed, and bloody power plays. Drunken secrets whispered over damp pillow-cases in the dead of night. Finnick was someone bought and sold. A district slave. A handsome one, certainly, but in reality, harmless. Who would he tell? And who would believe him if he did? But some secrets are too delicious not to share. I don't know all the people Finnick names - all seem to be prominent Capitol citizens - but I know, from listening to the chatter of my prep team, the attention the most mild slip in judgment can draw. If a bad haircut can lead to hours of gossip, what will charges of incest, back-stabbing, blackmail, and arson produce? Even as the waves of shock and recrimination roll over the Capitol, the people there will be waiting, as I am now, to hear about the president.

"And now, on to our good President Coriolanus Snow," says Finnick. "Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. Poison."

Finnick goes back to Snow's political ascension, which I know nothing of, and works his way up to the present, pointing out case after case of the mysterious deaths of Snow's adversaries or, even worse, his allies who had the potential to become threats. People dropping dead at a feast or slowly, inexplicably declining into shadows over a period of months. Blamed on bad shellfish, elusive viruses, or an overlooked weakness in the aorta. Snow drinking from the poisoned cup himself to deflect suspicion. But antidotes don't always work. They say that's why he wears the roses that reek of perfume. They say it's to cover the scent of blood from the mouth sores that will never heal. They say, they say, they say...Snow has a list and no one knows who will be next.

Poison. The perfect weapon for a snake.

Since my opinion of the Capitol and its noble president are already so low, I can't say Finnick's allegations shock me. They seem to have far more effect on the displaced Capitol rebels like my crew and Fulvia - even Plutarch occasionally reacts in surprise, maybe wondering how a specific tidbit passed him by. When Finnick finishes, they just keep the cameras rolling until finally he has to be the one to say "Cut."

The crew hurries inside to edit the material, and Plutarch leads Finnick off for a chat, probably to see if he has any more stories. I'm left with Haymitch in the rubble, pondering that Finnick's fate would have one day been mine. Of course it would have been. Snow could have gotten a really good price for the girl on fire.

"Did that happen to you?" I ask Haymitch, not looking at him. I'm not even sure I want to know the answer.

"No. My mother and younger brother. My girl. They were all dead two weeks after I was crowned victor. Because of that stunt I pulled with the force field," he answers. "Snow had no one to use against me."

"I'm surprised he didn't just kill you," I say.

"Oh, no. I was the example. The person to hold up to the young Finnicks and Johannas and Cashmeres. Of what could happen to a victor who caused problems," says Haymitch. "But he knew he had no leverage against me."

I don't reply to that. There really isn't anything to say.

With our job done, there's nothing left for us to do but wait. We try to fill the dragging minutes in Special Defense. Tie knots. Push our lunch around our bowls. I watch Finn and Olive blow things up on the shooting range. Because of the danger of detection, no communication comes from the rescue team. At 15:00, the designated hour, we stand tense and silent in the back of a room full of screens and computers and watch Beetee and his team try to dominate the airwaves. His usual fidgety distraction is replaced with a determination I have never seen. Most of my interview doesn't make the cut, just enough to show I am alive and still defiant. It is Finnick's salacious and gory account of the Capitol that takes the day. Is Beetee's skill improving? Or are his counterparts in the Capitol a little too fascinated to want to tune Finnick out? For the next sixty minutes, the Capitol feed alternates between the standard afternoon newscast, Finnick, and attempts to black it all out. But the rebel techno team manages to override even the latter and, in a real coup, keeps control for almost the entire attack on Snow.

"Let it go!" says Beetee, throwing up his hands, relinquishing the broadcast back to the Capitol. He mops his face with a cloth. "If they're not out of there by now, they're all dead." He spins in his chair to see Finnick, Olive and me reacting to his words. "It was a good plan, though. Did Plutarch show it to you?"

Of course not. Beetee takes us to another room and shows us how the team, with the help of rebel insiders, will attempt - has attempted - to free the victors from an underground prison. It seems to have involved knockout gas distributed by the ventilation system, a power failure, the detonation of a bomb in a government building several miles from the prison, and now the disruption of the broadcast. Beetee's glad we find the plan hard to follow, because then our enemies will, too.

"Like the electricity trap in the arena?" I ask.

"Exactly. And see how well that worked out?" says Beetee. I give him a forced smile, because it really, really didn't.

Then we wait again. Wait, wait, wait.

It must be midnight, it must be tomorrow when Chaff pushes open the door. "They're back. You're wanted in the hospital." My mouth opens with a flood of questions that he cuts off with "That's all I know. Haymitch's there already."

Olive immediately sprinst out of the room and down the corridor. I want to run, too, but Finnick's acting so strange, as if he's lost the ability to move, so I take his hand and lead him like a small child. Through Special Defense, into the elevator that goes this way and that, and on to the hospital wing. The place is in an uproar, with doctors shouting orders and the wounded being wheeled through the halls in their beds.

"Trinket!" The panicked scream is the first thing I can clearly make out."Where are you taking her? Trinket! Get her back, get her back! Touch her and I'll _kill you_! Effie!"

I freeze, looking around, trying to find out what is happening. There's a gurney further down the corridor, on the way to surgery, Haymitch hurrying along next to it. Effie. With him, she's okay. Next I find Johanna, who's still screaming at the top of her lungs, fighting against a few nurses. She's ematicated, her head shaved, her flesh shows bruises and oozing scabs. But she still puts up a good fight.

I hurry over just as they inject her with a sedatives, pushing them away and taking Johanna's hand."Haymitch's with her. She's okay, Jo. She's safe. You're safe. You're safe now, Jo."

"Haymitch's with her,"she repeats blearily and succumbs to the medicine. I want to keep looking for my sister, but I don't want to leave Johanna alone. I look up for help, maybe find my mum. I see Olive, and as she catches my eye, she untangles herself from Curie, who sinks into Wiress's arms instead.

"I'll keep an eye on her,"Olive says blankly as she reahces me."Go find your sister."

I nod and turn to leave, before remembering something."Your parents?"

"Weren't in the detention center,"she says."Go, Everdeen."

They didn't get everyone out. That's all that registers for the next few seconds. Then, through a doorway, I catch a glimpse of Gale, stripped to the waist, perspiration streaming down his face as a doctor removes something from under his shoulder blade with a long pair of tweezers. He pays the doctor no attention, focussed on a stretcher near him. I see a few dirty strands of blonde hair. I call his name, and Madge's, start toward them until a nurse pushes me back and shuts me out.

"Finnick!" Something between a shriek and a cry of joy. A lovely if somewhat bedraggled young woman - dark tangled hair, sea green eyes - runs toward us in nothing but a sheet. "Finnick!" And suddenly, it's as if there's no one in the world but these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible.

Boggs, looking a little worse for wear but uninjured, finds me. "We couldn't find the Kentwells, nor Gloss. We think they must be holding them elsewhere. Katniss is at the end of the hall. The effects of the gas are just wearing off. You should be there when she wakes."

Katniss is awake already, sitting on the side of the bed, looking bewildered as a trio of doctors reassure her, flash lights in her eyes, check her pulse. I'm disappointed that mine was not the first face she saw when she woke, but she sees it now. Her features register disbelief and something more intense that I can't quite place. It almost looks like panic, or anger, but that makes no sense.

My lips are just forming her name when his fingers lock around my throat.

_)o(_

_Tada, they are rescued. Well, some of them, anyways. ;)_


	29. Chapter 29

The cold collar chafes my neck and makes the shivering even harder to control.

I can't breath normally, but I know it's in my head. The medical team's main concerns - damage to my spinal cord, airway, veins, and arteries - have been allayed. Bruising, hoarseness, the sore larynx, this strange little cough - not to be worried about. But I still feel like I can't get any air to my lungs.

I want to know what's happening with Katniss, why she's like that, when I can see her. Our mum just came back to me; they wouldn't even let her see Katniss until they can determine whether she's a real danger, to everyone that is - it's obvious she's a danger to me.

I want to scream until they give me answers, only I'm not supposed to even talk right now. I can't even thank Boggs when he comes to check on me. To look me over and tell me he's seen a lot worse injuries among the soldiers when they teach choke holds in training.

It was Boggs who knocked out Katniss with one blow before any permanent damage could be done.

I don't knock what's wrong with her. Wait, no, I do know something. Hijacked. That's the word I heard pass between Plutarch and Haymitch as I was wheeled past them in the hallway. Hijacked. I just don't know what it means.  
Mum spreads another blanket over me. "I think they'll take the collar off soon, sweetheart. You won't be so cold then."

She takes one of my hands, which is clutched in a fist, and massages it until it opens and blood begins to flow through my fingers again. She's starting on the second fist when the doctors show up, remove the collar, and give me a shot of something for pain and swelling. I lie, as instructed, with my head still, not aggravating the injuries to my neck.

The two former Gamemakers, Haymitch, and Beetee have been waiting in the hall for the doctors to give them clearance. As soon as they do, they tell the doctors to leave and try to order Mum out aswell. She gives them a deadly glare."No. I'm not standing by while some Gamemakers call the shots in my daughters's lives. Not with the abysmall job you've been doing so far."

Plutarch looks offended, Celeste uncomfortable, but Haymitch chuckles. "I'd let it go, Plutarch," he says.

"So, Primrose, Katniss's condition has come as a shock to all of us," says Plutarch. "We couldn't know how badly she had deteriorated until she was rescued, at which point it became clear she was very... disorianted. Obviously, she'd been abused, and we put her psychological state down to that. Now we believe something more was going on. That the Capitol has been subjecting her to a rather uncommon technique known as hijacking. Beetee?"

"I'm sorry," Beetee says, "but I can't tell you all the specifics of it, Prim. The Capitol's very secretive about this form of torture, and I believe the results are inconsistent. This we do know. It's a type of fear conditioning. The term hijack comes from an old English word that means 'to capture,' or even better, 'seize.' We believe it was chosen because the technique involves the use of tracker jacker venom, and the jack suggested hijack . You were stung in your Hunger Games, so unlike most of us, you have firsthand knowledge of the effects of the venom."

Terror. Hallucinations. Nightmarish visions of losing those I love. Because the venom targets the part of the brain that houses fear.

"I'm sure you remember how frightening it was. Did you also suffer mental confusion in the aftermath?" asks Beetee. "A sense of being unable to judge what was true and what was false? Most people who have been stung and lived to tell about it report something of the kind."

I give a small shrug, because it wasn't really like that for me. Beete just continues anyways."Recall is made more difficult because memories can be changed." Beetee taps his forehead. "Brought to the forefront of your mind, altered, and saved again in the revised form. Now imagine that I ask you to remember something - either with a verbal suggestion or by making you watch a tape of the event - and while that experience is refreshed, I give you a dose of tracker jacker venom. Not enough to induce a three-day blackout. Just enough to infuse the memory with fear and doubt. And that's what your brain puts in long-term storage."

My mother asks the question I can't."So that's what they did to my daughter? They made Katniss afraid of Prim?"

Beetee nods. "So afraid that she'd see her as life-threatening. That she might try to kill her. Yes, that's our current theory."

I cover my face with my hands, trying to will away the tears. This can't be happening. No one could make Katniss forget that she loves me. This can't be happening. But she's still in there, she has to be. If she had really wanted to kill me, I'm sure I'd be dead, no matter how fast Boggs reacted. Something in her still held her back.

"But you can reverse it, right?" asks Mum.

"Um...very little data on that," says Plutarch. "None, really. If hijacking rehabilitation has been attempted before, we have no access to those records."

"Well, you're going to try, aren't you?" she persists. "You're not just going to lock her up in some padded room and leave her to suffer?"

"Of course, we'll try," says Beetee. "It's just, we don't know to what degree we'll succeed. If any. My guess is that fearful events are the hardest to root out. They're the ones we naturally remember the best, after all."

"And apart from her memories of Primrose, we don't yet know what else has been tampered with. That's why you haven't gotten clearance to see her," explains Plutarch. "We're putting together a team of mental health and military professionals to come up with a counterattack. I, personally, feel optimistic that she'll make a full recovery."

"Do you?" asks my mother caustically. "And what do you think, Haymitch?"

I shift my hands slightly so I can see his expression through the crack. He's exhausted and discouraged as he admits, "I think Katniss might get somewhat better. But...I don't think she'll ever be the same." I snap my hands back together, closing the crack, shutting them all out.

"At least she's alive," says Plutarch, as if he's losing patience with the lot of us. "We didn't find everyone, afterall. Katniss's damaged, but she's here. With us. And that's a definite improvement over her situation twelve hours ago. Let's keep that in mind, all right?"

Mum usheres them out when she notices that he just upset me more, and then more or less bullies the doctors into releasing me into her care. To an outsiders, we're probably rude bordering on paranoid, but we just can't find it in us to trust these people. We're better of by ourselves.

My mother knows that I can't be idle for long, so the next morning she says I can do what I want, as long as I don't overexcert myself and only speak when necessary. I'm up really early, so I make my way to the Hawthornes' apartment. When I'm almost there, I hear Posy shouting. Logically, I know nothing can have happend but I walk faster anyways, knocking urgently. Vick opens the door a slit and peeks out before opening the door all the way. He waves me in with a little smile and an apologetic shrug. Posy is red in the face and stomping her feet, screaming at Hazelle who's trying to get her to calm down."You said she's here now! You _said _so! I want Madgey, I want Madgey, I want-"

She falls into the chant just as Rory spots me and signals for us to leave the apartment. He takes me by the hand and leads me into an empty corridor."Are you okay? I was going to come see you, but they wouldn't let me into the hospital."

"I'm okay,"I say. deciding that talking to Rory definetely qualifies as necessary."What's with Posy?"

Rory runs a hand through his hair in a way that makes him look much older."Ma told her Madge is back. Only, now we're not allowed to see her. Gale's going absolutely mental. They have her sedated _all the time_. Apparently, they -" something in his tone lets me know that this is a different _they_, the Capitol,"- used her as a test to see how much venom they could safely pump into Katniss. Now the doctors think she might've been altered, too. It's considered too risky or whatever."

He sounds dejected, angry, and powerless all at once."They won't even let Mayor - Mr Undersee into her room. How messed up is that?"

"I'll go to Coin,"I decide."But first, I'll see what my mum thinks. Maybe she can do something."

"Maybe,"Rory agrees.

He doesn't sound very optimistic.

_)o(_

_I keep forgetting to mention this, but I'm back in boarding school atm_

_so if I ever miss a week, there was either too much to do or the internet dies, it's not 100% reliable here_

_just a heads up_


	30. Chapter 30

_Sorry for the lack of update last week_

_I went home from boarding school for the weekend to meet my new baby nephew :)_

_didn't have time to write though_

_)o(_

I make my way to the hospital to find Mum. She's probably still in surgery if I have her schedule right, but I'll go already anyway. I can use the time to check up on Effie and the others, though, which I wanted to do anyway. I haven't yet seen Effie, nor have I had time to get Haymitch alone and get an update from him.

When I get there, both Effie and Johanna are either asleep or sedated; it's hard to tell which. Jonsa's sitting on a chair between their beds, slumped halfway across Johanna's. She looks very malnourished and exhausted, but other than that she seems healthy enough. Curie's in a similar state, curled up on the foot of Effie's bed, Olive behind her, absentmindedly petting the younger girl's hair. Olive's staring at the door to the doctor's office. It is closed and a few doctors are discussing something.

Olive's looks up as I enter the room but turns straight back to staring.

"Everyone okay?" I ask the room at large. No one really aknowledges the question. Jonsa lifts her head and vaguely points towards the doctors."They're planning something. I don't trust them."

I walk over to them and sit down in the edge of Johanna's bed."Why's that?"

"They won't tell us where they have Madge," Jonsa says, dropping her head on the bed again."They sedated Effie just for asking. Said she was upsetting herself and shouldn't be stressed so soon after the surgery, but really they just thought she was being difficult."

We cannot talk any further, as the doctors choose that moment to walk in. They tell Curie to get off Effie's bed so they can move her to another ward. In the blink of an eye, both Olive and I are between the doctors and the bed.

"Does Haymitch know about this?" I demand at the same time as Olive says,"You can't move her. If Johanna wakes up and she's gone, there will be hell to pay."

"You can't separate us,"Jonsa puts in, sounding slightly panicked."You can't. You already took Madge and Katniss." She's about to cry, her starved body shaking with the effort of getting to her feet."You can't separate us. _Please._"

"There is no reason to get agitated," a doctor tells her, not ungently. I know her, she's generally very friendly, a surprisingly warm woman when compared to the usual steril behaviour of most people here."It won't hurt you to be seperated."

"They kept us safe," Curie says, and everyone turns to stare at her. Her eyes are fixed in the bedsheet, but she definetly just said that. The doctor that just spoke seems to realise the magnitude of this aswell, because she looks at each of her colleagues in turn before nodding."Very well. We'll attempt it this way for a while longer."

"As we're on the subject of seperating everyone,"I say, giving the doctor a bright smile."I was wondering whether I could see Madge."

She appraises me for a few seconds before replying."I really don't think that's a very good idea. But it isn't up to me, only the President can give you clearance."

"I'll go ask her, then,"I say, still smiling. It isn't the doctor's fault, afterall. So while they check up on their patients, I take Olive to the side and talk strategy with her. By the time my mother arrives, I quickly fill her in and we're off to Command.

Coin doesn't look pleased to be disturb, but waves us into the room anyway. Unsurprisingly, our request is not exactly met with enthusiasm. I let Mum do most of the talking, as she can best argue it from a medical point of view.

"I'm someone she knows from home but we don't have a very close connection,"she says,"It's our best bet to see what damage they did to her without greatly endangering anyone. And whatever information we can gain from her, it'll likely help us fix Katniss."

Once she laid out all her arguments, Coin fixes us with a calculating look, one after the other, before finally giving us her answer."Alright, Doctor Everdeen, you make a good point. You can see her. But _only _you, and Boggs will accompany you."

It's not exactly what we hoped for, but it's better than nothing, so I force myself to thank Coin.

Olive goes back to Curie and the others while Boggs takes me and Mum downstairs. Gale and Mr Undersee are standing outside the room, not speaking, intently staring through the window that I know is only a mirror from inside the room. With a short greeting and explanation, I take up a spot next to them as Boggs leads my mother into the room.

Mum walks over to Madge's bed, Boggs remains further back. Then Mum leans over Madge, adjusting her medication and settling in to wait.

I think we all hold our breath when Madge opens her eyes.


	31. Chapter 31

"Mum?"Madge says, her voice hoarse from disuse as she struggles to sit up. My mother leans in to support her, then gently brushes her hair out of her face."No, Madge, darling. It's Marigold Everdeen. Katniss's mother." She pauses, obviously unsure how to continue, or if to continue at all."Prim's mother."

We all tense, expecting the worse. I can see Boggs's muscels moving under his shirt as he readies himself to react. But Madge only nods, closing her eyes and dropping back down onto the bed."Are they dead? They are, aren't they? My parents?"

"Your father's outside,"Mum offers gently."He can't come in right now, though. I'm here to see if you're okay, first."

"To see if I'm crazy, you mean,"Madge says, her voice taking on a pleading tone."Dangerous. It's only when they inject me, I swear. I never hurt anyone when it wore off again. Ask Effie, she'll tell you. I never meant to hurt her, she knows that. The venom's gone now. Please, I want to see my dad. I want Gale. _Please._"

My mum takes one of her hands in both of hers."Later, sweetie, I promise." She glances over her shoulder at Boggs, then back to Madge."How are you feeling, dear?"

"Can I see Effie?"Madge asks instead of answering."Or Jo? Please, can I see Johanna?" Her eyes go out of focus for a few seconds before she looks at my mother again."Do you know what happend to my parents? I'd like to see them."

"Not right now, dear,"my mother repeats, just as Gale turns to me."What's wrong with her? Why doesn't she know she just asked that?"

I give a small shrug, uncomfortable with making an assessment right now."Could be anything. Short term memory loss, most like. Nutrient deficency, concussion, stress, maybe an adverse reaction to the meds. Maybe it's nothing. Brain stuff is weird, I don't really know."

In the room, my mother is still trying to get Madge to answer her questions, but Madge is more preoccupied with asking questions of her own. It's one in particular that makes us all freeze."Can I atleast talk to Peeta, then?"

"Give me a moment, will you?"Mum says, standing up and waving Boggs out of the room with her. She looks grave and slightly confused."I'll need to speak to the department heads of neuro and psych. I thought it was short term memory loss, but if she thinks Peeta is alive, that's something else."

Not much later, Boggs has gotten the needed doctors assembled and they're back speaking to Madge. She's getting more and more agitated and rather exasperated with every question they ask."Look, stop it, will you? I _know _what we all saw in the Games. But he isn't dead. I saw him, okay? Ask the others, I'm sure they must have met him, too. The Capitol's had him for over a year, and if you don't know what I'm talking about, that means they still have him. So stop annoying me and go save him."

With that, she pulls a pillow over her head and refuses to acknowledge anyone's presence.

Within minutes, Boggs has informed Coin and a meeting in Command is called to discuss the matter.

"Are we putting any trust in the ramblings of a drugged, hallucinating, psychologically damaged teenager?"Coin says. I elbow Gale in the ribs because I know whatever he's just opening his mouth to say won't work in our favour. Celeste Horan awkwardly clears her throat."Excuse me, President, b ut I think she might be right." She flushes a bright red as everyone turns to look at her; she hardly ever speaks in Command meetings. She throws Plutarch a look, almost asking for help, before she continues."There always was rumours, speculations. It was rather odd that Seneca not only kept his head but his position after the disaster of the 74th Games." Now she looks at me, blushing even harder."Not that I look at it as a disaster, I only meant-"

She falters, and Plutarch swoops in."Well, we did wonder about Crane, that is true."

"Peeta wasn't dead when they took him,"I chime in, remebering the little fact I never let myself dwell on."Very nearly, but not dead. Madge could be right."

"Be that as it may,"Coin says slowly,"We can't risk another rescue attempt on the basis of speculation. It is far too dangerous. But while I have you all here, we do need fresh propo material. I was thinking District Eight. Boggs, Plutarch, I leave the Mockingjay in your hands."

With that, we are dismissed and she waves away all protest as she imperiously sweeps from the room, leaving me to ponder Peeta's fate.

_)o(_

_sorry for the shorty short update but omg school is killing me okay just ugh sorry_


	32. Chapter 32

Once again I am handed over to my prepteam to be readied for a propo. Boggs is standing off to one side, briefing me on the situation in Eight. He sounds rather optimistic about it, but to me it just sounds awfully bleak. While the district is firmly in rebel hands, its people are suffering. Plutarch doesn't comment on the briefing much, rather directing my prepteam on how to style me.

Just as I am relatively up to speed, Gale stalks into the room, looking disgruntled yet determined."I'm coming, too."  
I raise an eyebrow at him and he gives a small shake of his head in reply, letting me know he won't say more infront of Boggs, and especially Plutarch.  
"What about Olive?"I ask the room at large."Is she meeting us on the hovercraft?"  
"Soldier Kentwell doesn't have clearance to leave Thirteen at the moment,"Boggs says."Her mental state is worrisome. Nor do I think she would want to leave, she practically lives with the rescued prisoners at the moment." He scowls, but then his face softens."The nurses are quite happy, to be frank, the girl has a way of dealing with Mason."  
"Based on a shared disdain for rules, I imagine,"Plutarch puts in. I can tell he's not happy about not getting Olive for the propo aswell. He's obviously not used to not getting his way, because the smallest thing makes him sulk like a child. I exchange a look with Gale but don't comment. Plutarch usually means well but brings it across awfully. Plutarch shrugs and looks me over, then clasps his hands together."Very well, you're perfect, let's get going, then."

"Yes, let's,"I say. The sooner we're gone, the sooner we'll be back and I can go back to the hospital. And I'm more excited than I'd like to admit about going to see another district. Boggs and Plutarch lead the way, discussing last minute details. I look to Gale."So? How come you're coming along?"

A muscle in his jaw twitches and he looks utterly resigned."It was strongly suggested to me that I better do exactly what Coin asks if I want to see Madge. Right now, you're apparently not enough for a propo, so here I am."

"This is the Capitol all over again,"I mutter."Like, Snow did the exact _same thing _to me. She's just him all over again. Except that this time, it's like people don't see it, you know?"

"I thought she was different, too, at first,"Gale says with a bitter laugh."That she was actually going to make some sort of change for the better. But if the Capitol falls - when it falls - she's gonna take Snow's place, isn't she?"

I nod and am about to say more when Boggs calls for us to hurry up. We strap into our seats on the hovercraft and off we are.

The hovercraft makes a quick, spiral descent onto a wide road on the outskirts of Eight. Almost immediately, the door opens, the stairs slide into place, and we're spit out onto the asphalt. The moment the last person disembarks, the equipment retracts. Then the craft lifts off and vanishes.

There's not as many soldiers with us as there was in Eleven, so Gale, our camera team and I help lug the supplies our crafts brought along towards the base. It's apoarently one of many and the rebel leaders move around, never all in one place if they can avoid it. The district is half in ruins, though, so they can't have that many safe places left. Boggs knocks a short, probably agreed upon rhythm against a steel door and it creeks open to admit us. A tall, darkskinned woman waves us in, eyebrows shooting up at the sight of me.

"This is Commander Paylor of Eight," says Boggs. "Commander, Soldier Primrose Everdeen."

She looks young to be a commander. Early thirties, maybe. But it seems that this rebellion is built around young leaders anyway, and at thirteen, I can hardly call anyone too young for anything.

"Yes, I know who she is,"says Paylor."We weren't expecting her to run weapon deliveries."

Boggs smiles at that wryly."She's here to do more than that. Rally the troops, see the situation here, let the nation know we're still fighting."

"Did you bring the other one?"Paylor asks and I'm confused for a few seconds. Then I realise who she means."Oh, no, Olive is - she's -"

I look to Boggs for help, unsure what to say. _No, she had a mental breakdown and is basically locked up in Thirteen _doesn't seem like the right answer, somehow. Boggs clears his throat."Soldier Kentwell is occupied otherwise."

Paylor seems to be able to tell that that's just putting it nicely, but she doesn't push, shrugging instead."Pity. We could have used a few more Peacekeepers joining the cause. We had a whole wave of defecters when you two were in Eleven."

"Sorry, just me,"I reply. Paylor gives me a small smile."Well, glad to have you, Soldier Everdeen."

_)o(_

_I am back from my hiatus, you guys!_

_Now I'm kinda ill, though, and back to work. Fingers crossed kinda ill doesn't turn into properly ill!_


	33. Chapter 33

I follow Paylor into their Command center, where we're all briefed on Paylor's plan for the day, seeing as we're going to be tagging along with her for the day.

"You can't film everything, obviously,"Paylor tells Cressida as an afterthought. Cressida nods."Of course, we wouldn't compromise any important locations."

Then we go out into the district. I'm flanked by Boggs and Gale, which serves to make me feel incredibly tiny. There's people here and there in the streets and we walk up to greet them, check how everyone's doing and, in Paylor's case, pass on information. Where food and medical aid is given out that day. People seem happy to see me and I actually feel like I'm doing something useful. I'm almost happy by midday, when we visit the impromptu orphanage they set up. The second we step inside, my good mood evaporates. It's shockingly crowded. There's rows upon rows of beds and small cots, most looking hastily put together.

"There's that many orphans here?"Gale says quietly. Paylor nods, her mouth a thin line."And that's only the kids that made it to us."

We move through the room, stopping to talk to children here and there. A little boy stretches out his arms to be picked up and I do, carrying him on my hip as I walk further through the crowd. He falls asleep nuzzled against my shoulder within minutes. I'm in the middle of a game they made up with a few kids when Boggs walks up, gently touching my shoulder."We have to get back to the hovercraft. Now."

"What's wrong?"I ask, already dreading the answer. Boggs gives a small shake of his head and motions for me to follow him away from the children. Reluctanrly, I put the little boy down on a nearby cot and follow Boggs outside, where the rest of our team is already waiting. As we run towards base camp, the sirens begin blaring, and a formation of bombers uncloaks to deliver its payload.

"We can't land in this,"Plutarch's voice announces in my headset. I activate the group wave line, knowing the others won't be able to hear me otherwise. Chaos is already reigning around us."What do you think they're doing? Is this because we're here?"

"No, too short-notice for that,"Boggs replies."Maybe the hospital, take out the wounded."

"Can't be,"Gale puts in."I talked to Paylor, they just relocated the hospital. No way does Snow already know where they are."

"What, then?"I ask, just as the answer hits me. Psychological warfare. Hit the rebels were it hurts everyone. "The orphanage!"I shout into my mouthpiece and spin back around. I hear Boggs give a series of commands, but I don't really pay any attention. I'm not a fighter, and all I can think of right now is running.

I make it to the orphanage out of breath and with burning muscles, but the building still stands. I grab the first rebel soldier I see, screaming to make myself heard over the racket,"We have to evacuate that building. Right now."

"It's not a military target,"he shouts back, but he sounds uncertain. He's young and undertrained and terrified, and glad to relinquish control to Boggs, who's hot on my heels.

"Soldier Everdeen, take cover,"he says before running into the building. I stare at his back for about half a second before muttering, "Like hell I will," and following him inside. He only shrugs when he sees me, his look one of _Well, can't say I didn't try _as he signals for a soldier to stick with me.

We heard the children towards the exit, our group almost there when a bomber crashes into the building. There's screaming and fire and the smell of burned flesh and now the exit's cut off. I hear Paylor's voice over the chaos."Everyone against that wall!"

I can't make out where she is, but people closest to her see where she's pointing and everyone follows suit. She and Boggs are on the other side of the room, fumbling with something before running towards us. The explosion they rigged rocks the whole building and I'm sure we all expect the roof to come down. It doesn't, though, and the escaperoute they planned is open to us. We usher out the children as fast as we can, a few soldiers taking them in groups to nearby shelters.

"That seems to be everyone,"I hear Boggs' voice in my headset, but just then I think I catch a movement a few dozen yards into the building. Without thinking further, I run towards it, calling out. There's only sobbing in return, and the smoke biting in my eyes makes it next to impossible to see anything at all. I stumble further into the building, trying to find whoever is crying. I call out again, and this time I get and answer.

"My sister! Please, my sister needs help,"a small voice says. I can't see the child."Keep talking, I need to follow your voice."

I find two little girls, one trapped under a piece of rubble. Luckily, even I am strong enough to get it off her once I find a piece of metal I can use as a lever. Even through my protective gloves, my skin blisters from touching the hot metal. Everything around me is painfully hot, even the air. I will myself not to think of the forest fire in my Games. The little girl kneels next to her unconcious sister."Is she dead? Like Ma and Pa?"

"No, she'll be fine"I say, more confident than I feel."I have to carry her. Can you walk?"

She nods, tears in her eyes. I try to manage a smile."Hold on to my belt, yeah? Don't let go."

I'm woozy by the time I can make out the exit, spots dancing before my eyes. The weight of the tiny girl feels like the heaviest thing in this world, her sister keeps stumbling and almost bringing me down with her. But then I'm outside, and there's cheering, and I manage to grin at everyone before I cough so hard I throw up and then faint into the mess.

_)o(_

_soooo late omg hahah whoops why am I so shite_


	34. Chapter 34

I wake up to Boggs staring down at me."Are you alright?"

I make a sound somewhere between the word 'sure' and gagging. Boggs seems satisfied that I'm responding at all; he helps me sit up and gives me some water from his flask. I choke down a few mouthfuls gratefully."What happend?" I look around."Why are we on the hovercraft? I wanted to help!"

"You did,"he assures me, and I believe him."But I needed to see you to safety aswell." He clears his throat and suddenly reminds me an awful lot of my mum. Oh no. A lecture. I glance around for help but Gale is giving me a 'well, you kind of deserve it' look and Pollux just shrugs helplessly. Everyone else seems otherwise occupied.

"What you did was reckless, beyond stupid and careless,"Boggs says."It was utterly irresponsible, Primrose."

"Yeah, I get called that a lot,"I say. He frowns, thrown off track."Which one?"

I give him a sheepish grin."Primrose."

He groans and rolls his eyes, but there's a smile tugging at his lips."Right, I hear you, no lecture. But that's only because, while incredibly stupid, you were also incredibly brave." Now he's smirking at me."And because whatever I could say, I know it will be nothing compared to what you'll here from your mother once she finds out." He pats my shoulder goodnaturedly and leaves for the cockpit.

_You're so done for, _Pollux signs and I flip him off before signing back._Shut up and have some pity. He's telling on me. I'd rather have him lecture me._

_Your mum's gonna see the propo anyway, _Pollux replies._ Better she finds out now, while you can play up your injuries._

_True. I'm still so dead though, _I reply. He just nods at that and I roll my eyes. Cressida walks over just then."Boggs says to strap into our seats, we're about to land."

First thing upon landing, we're brought into Command where we review all that happend. Only now do I learn everything myself. While I was helping evacuate the hospital, Gale was leading an assault on the Capitol bombers, bringing them down with the custom made bow and the help of rebel soldiers. Plutarch plays a few snippets of Cressida's footage and Coin looks pleased."Boggs, take Soldier Hawthorne to see his fiancée. Psych has declared her not to be an immediate danger to others."

The timing is of course blatantly suspicious, but Gale looks so relieved I hold my tongue, waiting to be dismissed aswell. She looks me over carefully."To the hospital with you, Soldier Everdeen. Have them make sure you've not done any vital damage to yourself."

"Yes, President Coin,"is all I say in reply, glad to be allowed to leave. Since she didn't specify which hospital wing to go to, I head for the one where they have the rescued hostages, even though it's rather far from Command. All I find there is Johanna and a note on her bedside table. _Jo -_ _Don't worry, everyone's fine. __Curie's with Wiress, Effie's in surgery, Jonsa's in rehab for her leg, I'm back in Psych. Will be back as soon as I can! - Olive_

I'm guessing she didn't want Johanna to wake up to find the empty room with no explanation. I turn back to the bed and find Johanna blinking at me, looking very dazed.

"Hi, Jo,"I say uncertainly. I'm not sure she's properly awake. She squints at me until she recognises me."The Mockingjay! Hello!" Then she frowns."Why're you here? Where's the pretty one?"

"Excuse me?"I say, confused. It takes me a few seconds to puzzle that out."Oh. D'you mean Olive?"

She rolls her eyes at that."Duh. Dibs, by the way." She wags her finger at me sternly but then reaches out and pokes my nose instead, whispering _Boop_ and giggling. I stare from her to the morphling drip in her arm, rounding the bed and checking the settings."Oh my god, who set that? That's a really bad dosage. Jo, I think you're high."

"That's the idea, brainless,"Jo says, swatting at me as I correct the settings."Don't! I finally figured out how to override their stupid block. They weren't giving me enough."

"You can't be in that much pain,"I argue, albeit unsure. Maybe she is. Or maybe she just needs it. I glance at the marks my nails have left all over my arms. _Whatever helps you cope, _I heard Haymitch say to Chaff once. _You don't knock another victor's crutches._

"No,"she admits, sitting up and drinking a glass of water before splashing some in her face, sobering considerably."I just - I need it. Just as long as I'm alone. Okay?"

I don't know anyone else who can simultaniously sound so vulnerable, angry and threatening. I sit down on the edge of her bed."Anything I can do for you?"

"Keep your mouth shut about the morphling,"she replies. I nod."They'll notice, though, you know that, right? The drip'll be empty too soon and then they won't give you any. Even for the physical pain. Then what?"

Jo shrugs."I'll bum Effie's, she hates the stuff."

"Right,"I sigh."I'm just worried, Johanna. I'm not trying to - I don't know, upset you or anything."

"I'm fine,"she says and before I can argue that she very obviously isn't, my mother comes into the room. I jump up but before I can get even a halfway logically excuse made up, she's already rounded on me."Don't even think about walking off, young lady! I know exactly what you did, Ronan already told me."

"Who?"I say, perplexed. My mother frowns at me."What do you mean, who? Commander Boggs."

"Ah,"I go dumbly. Weirdly enough, it never occured to me that he obviously must have a first name. Mum directs me over to another bed, giving me a complete checkup while berating me. The words 'idiotic' and 'careless' feature heavily. By the end, Johanna is barely stiffling a laugh and my cheeks are glowing red. My mother huffs angrily and then kisses my forehead."Regardless, I am proud of you. But do something like that again and I _will _ground you until the end of your days, Mockingjay or not. Understood?"

"Yes, Mum,"I mumble. She nods."Good. Now, your escort's in the recovery room and your mentor's been dragged to some meeting, so why don't you go sit with her? The one on level D."

I practically run from the room before she can change her mind, not to mention that I wouldn't want Effie to wake up all alone.

After I ask the nurse if she could leave us alone, I sit next to Effie's bed and debate with myself whether or not to read the chart hanging on the foot of the bed. I'm not sure I actually want to know, and it feels like betrayal, so in the end, I decide against it. Instead, I carefully study her face, trying to tell myself she'll be okay. When she opens her eyes, I reach out to gently touch her hand."Hey, Effie. How're you feeling?"

"Prim,"she says, a real smile spreading across her gaunt face."Oh, it's so good to finally see you. Jonsa said you came by while I was sedated. Are you alright, dear?"

I nod, and when she pats the covers next to her, I curl up there, telling her about everything and nothing. I just walked her through what happened in Eight when Haymitch arrives. He walks over to us with a portable computer."Scoot over."

I perch on the edge of the bed, watching Effie and Haymitch settle down on the bed so naturally as if they've done so a million times before. I almost scoff at them. _Married to make her a more obvious pressure point. _They're probably the only two people in all of Panem to believe that. But I don't comment; they have to figure that out themselves. Instead, I adress Haymitch."What d'you have there?"

"Cressida gave me today's footage,"he says. I lean in, interested."They already made the propo?"

He shakes his head and pulls up different scenes at random. When he gets to the part where I fall face-first into my own vomit, he laughs alot harder than I feel this warrants. I cross my arms and glare at him while Effie just chuckles, dropping her head against his shoulder."Well, like mentor, like mentee."

Now it's my turn to laugh at him.

_)o(_

_Boggs has a first name now lol I figured he deserves one okay?_

_hayffie babys they're precious babys I love them yay_


	35. Chapter 35

The next morning, just as I'm leaving breakfast to go to my classes, Boggs stops me in the corridor."We need you in the hospital. They're going to try something on Katniss. They want to send in someone from Twelve, they're screening people now. I thought you could help."

"Who're we looking for?"I ask as we walk along. Boggs sighs heavily."That's the problem. We want someone as innocous as possible, someone who Katniss doesn't associate with you, tha Capitol or the Games, maybe someone she shares childhood memories with. But that seems a lot harder than we anticipated."

"She never had a lot of friends,"I admit. Galle and Madge - that's about it, and it seems they're both right out with the parameters they set.

When we arrive at the hospital room that has been turned into a work space for Katniss's recovery team, there's already a heated debate going on. Apparently, the only options they see are Leevy and Delly, both of whom shared at least a few classes with Katniss. I give them both a small smile."So, which one of you is going to go in?"

Leevy shrugs, twisting the hem of her shirt around uncomfortably, and Plutarch answers for them."We're not sure yet. Neither really have that much of a connection with Katniss, to be frank."

"Katniss was always so amazing, I never dreamed she would notice me," says Delly. "The way she could hunt and go in the Hob and everything. Everyone admired her so."

I bite my lower lip nervously, trying to come up with something helpful to say."Well, Leevy was there when Katniss - at the whipping. And Delly was really close to Peeta. So we have the potential triggers with both of you. But I think we should go with Delly. That can't be as bad as the whipping. Right?"

I say it with more conviction than I feel. Plutarch clasps his hands together and nods. "Let's give it a shot, then."

Plutarch, Boggs, Haymitch, and I go to the observation room next to where Katniss's confined. It's crowded with ten members of her recovery team armed with pens and clipboards. The one-way glass and audio setup allow us to watch Katniss secretly. She lies on the bed, her arms strapped down. She doesn't fight the restraints, but her hands fidget continuously and bruising around the cuffs tells me she must have tried to get them off before. Her expression seems more lucid than when she tried to strangle me, but it's still not one that belongs to her.

When the door quietly opens, her eyes widen in alarm, then become confused. Delly crosses the room tentatively, but as she nears her she naturally breaks into a smile. "Katniss? It's Delly. From home."

"Delly?" Some of the clouds seem to clear. "Delly. It's you."

"Yes!" she says with obvious relief. "How do you feel?"

"Awful. Where are we? What's happened?" asks Katniss.

"Here we go," says Haymitch.

But before Delly can reply, Katniss presses on."What's going on now? Where's Madge? Have you seen her?"

Delly shakes her head, then hastens to add,"But Gale has, and she seems to be alright."

"No one came to see me,"Katniss says and it sounds accusatory. Delly's clearly uncomfortable now but soldiers on."Well, no, but everyone really wants to see you. It's just - we're not sure what's going on yet, see, so only medical staff - "

"You're not medical staff,"Katniss interrupts her."And my mother is. Why isn't _she_ here?" She's growing more and more agitated with each word."Is she with It? She is, isn't she? She's with It!"

"What do you mean?"Delly says uncertainly, and there's a quiver to her voice now. Katniss is pulling at her restraints, throwing her whole body forward, her eyes frantic."That thing they sent us back, that thing everyone pretends is Prim. It isn't." A pleading tone now, panic in her eyes."I don't know what It is, Delly. But It isn't my sister."

I'm swaying slightly, bile rising in my throat, Haymitch's hand on my shoulder. Katniss's every word cuts me like a knife."They killed her, I know they did, and gave us that thing. It's not her, It's so _cold_, I don't know what It is."

"Katniss, you know that's not true,"Delly starts, but that just sets Katniss off into a screaming, raging mess."It has to die! They killed Prim! Someone needs to kill that thing! They took her and killed her and sent us It! I want It gone, I want It dead, I need It dead!"

"Get her out of there," says Plutarch. The door opens immediately and Dellyall but runs from the room. I'm shaking badly, tears streaming down my face as I stare at my sister in her panic-fueled fury.

"Shut it off already,"Boggs snaps and the sound breaks down, the window turning to a mirror on our side aswell. She's gone for now, but the gut-wrenching ache in my heart won't ever go away, I know that.

_)o(_

_For anyone wondering, this story will sadly not be concluded before Mockingjay, even though it actually would've been hella cool to finish with the premier of the last film._

_Katniss done broke Prim's heart :(_


	36. Chapter 36

"Prim?"Haymitch says hesitantly."You okay, there?"

I nod, staring straight ahead."I just need a minute. Just - I need to be alone right now."

With that, I push my way from the room, practically feeling Boggs' and Haymitch's eyes burn into the back of my head with concern. Alone was actually not what I had in mind, but they don't really know Katniss; I can't talk to them about this. I'm halfway to our room when I remember Mum won't be back from surgery yet, so I turn around and head to the Hawethornes' instead. I knock and Rory opens the door almost immediately."Oh, thank god. I was starting to get worried." He gestures me into the room. "Are you okay? You didn't show up to training and Gale had no idea what was happening so I figured you hadn't left the district, and then I couldn't find you."

I let my head fall against his shoulder and wrap my arms around him."Okay would be an overstatement."

By the time I'm done telling him what happened, I'm in tears, but still feel somewhat relieved. I wipe at my eyes and smile a little, albeit sadly."Well, thanks for listening, anyways."

"Anytime, you know that,"replies Rory, pressing a kiss to my forehead."So what's gonna happen now?"

"I don't know,"I admit."I guess we just have to wait and hope. They'll figure it out. They have to."

"They will,"he says, and I think he actually means it. With the conviction in his voice, I can almost believe it, too. I get up with a much more sincere smile."I'll head back to our apartment now, see if Mum's back yet. I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

The door to our apartment slides open at my touch. My mother's back, as I'd figured, but she's not alone. She and Boggs are sitting at the small table, talking intently, her hands cupped in both of his. When the door slides shit with it's usual '_whoosh_' and alerts them to my presence, they jerk apart so fast Boggs almost topples his chair over. I raise my eyebrows at them but say nothing. My mum comes over to hug me."Are you okay, sweetie? Ronan was just telling me about what happend with Katniss -"

"I'm fine,"I say. She looks at me with worry and tears in her eyes. I pat her hand gently."Really, Mum, I'm okay."

_It's so _cold_, that isn't my sister._

I step away from her, clearing my throat."It'll all be fine." I turn to Boggs to deflect my mother's attention."Right? They'll find a way to help her."

Boggs nods, giving me a strained smile."Of course they will."

"Of course,"Mum agrees quickly."Do you want to do evening rounds with me? It's been a while since you came along."

I look down at the schedule on my arm before deciding everyone's used to me not exactly following it anyways."Yeah, I'd like that."

We go from patient to patient until we come across Estelle, who I didn't know was in hospital. I rush over, concerned."Elle? What happened?"

She shrugs and then winces, clutching her shoulder."I messed myself up in training pretty badly." Her face splits into a huge grin."My team won, though. I got named team leader."

"That's really cool!" I'm more enthusiastic about her obvious joy then about what she has to tell me, but it doesn't matter either way. I haven't seen her properly happy in forever. Actually, I've been seeing her far too little anyway."How are you doing? Except for the dislocated shoulder, obviously."

"I'm okay,"she says."Livia and Marlyn are great, you know, letting me live with them and all. And school's much more interesting here; so's training and all. But what about you? We barely see you anymore."

I cringe."I know, I'm sorry. I'm just really swamped."

"It's okay, we've seen the footage, I'm not blaming you,"she replies good naturedly."I just worry sometimes. District Eight looked really scary."

"Oh, they broadcasted that already?"I ask."I haven't even seen it yet. But, yeah, it was pretty scary. Not as bad as Eleven, mind you. That was -"

I trail off with a shudder. Estelle reaches out to squeeze my hand."You don't have to talk about it. Really, I get it. I don't like thinking about what happened at home, either."

I cringe."I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"No, it's fine,"Estelle says."Really, it's okay. Are you - if it's okay to ask - d'you have to do something like that again?"

"I guess so, yeah,"I reply."But it's not all bad, really. I mean, I guess I'm helping, right? And I have my team with me; I'm safer than anyone else out there. There's always a few soldiers from Thirteen, Gale, Boggs -"

Estelle cuts me off, beaming."Oh, he's dreamy, isn't he?"

"Who? Gale?"I ask, perplexed. She never said anything back in Twelve. Now she frowns at me."What? No. Commander Boggs, duh."

"Uh, I guess?"I offer uncertainly, looking over my shoulder to make sure Mum isn't close enough to overhear."He's kinda old."

"God, you're just wearing Rory goggles,"she says with a roll of her eyes. I giggle lightly."That doesn't even mean anything, Elle."

I tell Mum to go ahead without me and stay with Estelle, ending up having dinner with her and getting thrown out by a nurse once it's too late.

Surprisingly, there's a light on in the room when I come in. Olive sits on her bed, vaguely staring at the ceiling. I cross over to sit down next to her."Hiya. Didn't know you'd be back."

She shrugs."Apparently I'm not an immediate suicide risk anymore. So they kicked me out of the hospital. Plus, they moved Curie in with Wiress, and Jonsa with Demeter and Glamour, so maybe they just wanted to clear out a few beds."

"Maybe,"I say."I think they want you back in action, though. The Commander of Eight, Paylor, asked about you when we were there. Apparently, you make a big impact on the Peacekeeper forces."

"They could let me go back home,"she says wistfully."Just for a few hours. I bet you that would make an impact."

I shift closer, resting my head on her shoulder."There's a Command meeting tomorrow morning. We could see if we can get them to let us go."

"I'd like that,"she replies."I'd really, really like that."


	37. Chapter 37

"I think it's a good idea,"Plutarch say."It's the last of the districts that is still giving us severe trouble. And until all the districts are secured, we can't march on the Capitol."

There's nodding and mumbles of agreement all around, even Coin looks pleased."A short visit won't do, I'm afraid. I'll give you three weeks on this. Make the best of it or I'll see myself forced to bomb the whole district into oblivion, rebels and all."

Gale pushes Olive back into her seat as casually as possible and Boggs quickly talks over her to keep the situation from escalating."The situation has deteriorated. While almost no one remains on the Capitol's side, they have not joined the rebellion either. We suspect it's because they're following the lead of their Victors."

"Well, what do you expect?"Finnick puts in. For once, everyone is assembled in Command."The rebellion has not treated them all too well, has it?"

Coin purses her lips in disapproval."Sevina is hindering the liberation of her district. That makes her a traitor to the cause."

"Baria never was with the rebels,"Finn argues."How exactly can she be a traitor?"

Olive clears her throat."I can fix this, okay? But you bomb my home and I swear, if it's the last thing I do, I will carve -"

"The Mountain,"Celeste blurts out, apparently just wanting to cut Olive off."It houses the heart of the Capitol's military. That's what we need to take down."

"Exactly,"Coin says, giving Olive a cold stare, a hint of a smirk on her lips that makes my stomach clench with dread."You will not be seeing the Victors without my express permission or Boggs will drag you back here by your ears, which you clearly are still wet behind."

"Whatever,"Olive grinds out testily."When are we going?"

Coin takes a moment to check her notes."Tomorrow morning. Boggs, see that Soldiers Kentwell, Everdeen and Hawthorne have all they'll need."

"I can't go,"Gale says."I'm not leaving Madge for three weeks!"

"Well, then you'll just have to fix the situation in Two faster, won't you?" Coin says pleasantly and dismisses everyone.

We spend our time before dinner packing our stuff up for the next day, then I go to say goodbye to Rory while Olive goes to see Jo.

The next morning, we're up at dawn. Mum tells me to be careful, worry creasing her brow. I smile and kiss her cheek."Relax, Mum, Boggs'll keep an eye on me."

She smiles weakly before kissing my forehead and then surprising me by hugging Olive goodbye aswell."You take care, too, yeah?"

"Sure, Mrs E,"Olive replies, patting her back gently before untangling herself. I raise my eyebrows at her as we walk down the corridor. Olive shrugs."She checked up on me a lot when they had me on psych watch. I guess she adopted me now. I'll try not to make her love me more than you, even if it'll be hard."

"Very funny,"I deadpan, and Olive sticks her tongue out at me."I'm just very lovable, okay?"

We're the last to arrive in the hangar, stowing our stuff and strapping us into the seats on the hovercraft. I fall asleep again quickly, only coming to when an excited Olive shakes me awake.

District Two is a large district, as one might expect, composed of a series of villages spread across the mountains. Each was originally associated with a mine or quarry, although now, many are devoted to the housing and training of Peacekeepers. None of this would present much of a challenge, since the rebels have Thirteen's airpower on their side, except for one thing: At the center of the district is a virtually impenetrable mountain that houses the heart of the Capitol's military; the Mountain Celeste mentioned.

We land on the rebel base, a group of soldiers at the ready to meet us there. Olive lets out a shriek of delight and sprints ahead of the group, one of the soldiers racing to meet her. She throws herself into his arms, her laughter bubbling across the square as he spins her around and around. As he sets her down she grabs his hand and drags him towards us, beaming brightly."Everyone, this is Nero. Nero, the squad."

Last time I saw him, I was standing on the wide marble steps of the Justice Building on my Victory Tour, staring down at his family as well as Olive's. I offer him a timid smile."Hello."

Just because Olive is oddly okay with me being alive after watching her sister die mere metres away from me, it doesn't mean Nero will be as generous. He grins at me, delighted."Oh my god, you're teensy. I knew they were very good with camera angles when they made it look like Livy could see over a tabletop but you're ridiculously small."

"I'm thirteen?"I say, unsure how to react to him. Olive elbows him in the ribs as Cressida steps forward to shake his hand."We are very, very good with camera angles, thanks for noticing."

"How's Tulia?"Olive chimes in, linking arms with Nero. He shrugs."Not so great, right now. Pa got killed when we originally took the villages, Ma's a spy in the Mountain, so we don't see a lot of her. And I can't really keep a kid around the rebel base, too dangerous. Enobaria's taking care of Tu for me; the Victor's Village remains neutral."

Olive pales."I'm so sorry. I didn't know about your dad."

"Yeah, well, now you do,"he says with a glance towards the rest of us."Can we change the subject?"

By now, the rest of the rebels have made their way over to us aswell. Leading them is a Victor named Lyme, and no one needs to mess with camera angles to make her seem impressive. She's as tall as Gale and very muscular. After greeting us, she takes us into our new home for the next few weeks.


	38. Chapter 38

I watch Lyme training her soldiers, sitting off to the side with a sixteen-year-old called Aurelius. He's one of them brains that is suppossed to help us figure out how to take down the Mountain, and Beetee as well as I have taken quite a liking to him. Beetee's kind of mentoring him, and I just really enjoy hanging out with him.

"Nero's got him now,"Aurelius remarks, sipping his drink. I watch as Gale has his opponent in a chokehold, my eyebrows raised. "Nero looks pretty got, actually."

"Nah,"drawls Aurelius, holding up one hand between us, slowly lowering one finger after the next. Just as he makes a fist, Nero crouches down slightly and yanks Gale off his feet in a manouver to quick for me to follow. Once he has Gale on his back, he places a foot firmly on his chest while holding down his arms.

I let out a low whistle. "How'd you see that coming?"

Aurelius shrugs."I was in an Academy for a bit, from eight to thirteen. Then Lyme finally convinced my parents I wasn't suited for the Games and I got to get into engineering. But the knowledge stuck, even if I can't do that myself."

It's hard to imagine skinny, slightly awkward Aurelius as a Career, but I guess that's why he dropped out of the Academy again anyways.

"Cool,"I reply, as Lyme declares Nero the winner of the sparring match. The second it's officially over, Nero not only instantly releases Gale, but helps him to his feet, clapping him on the shoulder. "Good match, Gale!"

"Thanks, you too,"Gale answers, brushing the dirt of his clothes. Lyme gives them each a nod, and waves them to the side so the next pair can take up their spot. Aurelius waves Nero and Gale over to us, pulling two cans of soda from the cooler at his feet and chucking them to the other two once they're close enough.

"Don't you get bored watching us without doing anything?"Gale asks. Nero grins, opening his drink and taking a few big gulps."Dude, they just love staring at us."

He does a few ridiculous muscle poses which make me laugh but also cause my face to flush. I quickly down my drink to cover that up. Aurelius scoots closer to me so Nero can sit down next to him on the wall we're perched on; the slight hint of red to his cheeks not escaping my notice. Gale sits down on my other side and together we continue watching the training. The teens from Two are falling over eachother to prove themselves, seeing as Olive's there with them. She's the happiest I think I've ever seen her, joking around and beaming.

I still heard her wake up screaming in the next room over last night, though, and she's still wearing her _Mentally disoriented _bracelet. She's been refusing to take it off, even though here, there's no doctors forcing her to keep it on.

Now Olive's up infront of the group, demonstrating an exercise with Lyme. Something about using your opponents strength against him, which I guess couldn't be illustrated better than with petite Olive and tall, muscular Lyme. Nero's smiling, reaching across Aurelius to get another soda. "It's so good to have Livy here. Just look at the cadets. They weren't this motivated since everything first started. The Mountain's really crushing everyone's spirit."

"Speaking of,"Aurelius says,"There's another meeting 'bout that later, so you might wanna go have a shower before hitting up Command."

"Not again,"I groan, burying my face in my hands. We've been here a week and I've already sat through ten meetings on the subject of the Mountain. It's always the same thing over and over and over. Today turns out to not be any different.

As the afternoon wears on, talk keeps returning to a strategy that has been tried repeatedly - the storming of the entrances. I can see Lyme's frustration building because so many variations of this plan have already failed, so many of her soldiers have been lost. Finally, she bursts out, "The next person who suggests we take the entrances better have a brilliant way to do it, because you're going to be the one leading that mission!"

Today, after days of silent contemplation, Gale speaks up."Is it really so necessary that we take the Nut? Or would it be enough to disable it?"

"That would be a step in the right direction," says Beetee. "What do you have in mind?"

"Think of it as a wild dog den," Gale continues. "You're not going to fight your way in. So you have two choices. Trap the dogs inside or flush them out."

"We've tried bombing the entrances," says Lyme. "They're set too far inside the stone for any real damage to be done."

"I wasn't thinking of that," says Gale. "I was thinking of using the mountain." Beetee rises and joins Gale at the window, peering through his ill-fitting glasses. "See? Running down the sides?"

"Avalanche paths," says Beetee under his breath. "It'd be tricky. We'd have to design the detonation sequence with great care, and once it's in motion, we couldn't hope to control it."

"We don't need to control it if we give up the idea that we have to possess the Mountain," says Gale. "Only shut it down."

"So you're suggesting we start avalanches and block the entrances?" asks Lyme.

"That's it," says Gale. "Trap the enemy inside, cut off from supplies. Make it impossible for them to send out their hovercraft."

While everyone considers the plan, Boggs flips through a stack of blueprints of the Nut and frowns. "You risk killing everyone inside. Look at the ventilation system. It's rudimentary at best. Nothing like what we have in Thirteen. It depends entirely on pumping in air from the mountainsides. Block those vents and you'll suffocate whoever is trapped."

"They could still escape through the train tunnel to the square," says Beetee.

"Not if we blow it up," says Gale brusquely.

The implications of what Gale is suggesting settle quietly around the room. You can see the reaction playing out on people's faces. The expressions range from pleasure to distress, from sorrow to satisfaction.

"The majority of the workers are citizens from Two," says Beetee neutrally.

"So what?" says Gale. "We'll never be able to trust them again."

"They should at least have a chance to surrender," says Lyme.

"Well, that's a luxury we weren't given when they fire-bombed Twelve, but you're all so much cozier with the Capitol here," says Gale. By the look on Lyme's face, I think she might shoot him, or at least take a swing. Nero actually does.

Gale's on the floor, holding his jaw with a bewildered look, as Lyme wrestles Nero away from him, "Nero, get out of here."

"My mother is in there!"he shouts back, struggling to get out of her grasp. Lyme shoves him towards the door."That was an order, Soldier Hadley."

Nero goes, but not without turning back to glare at Gale."I thought you could be trusted."

There's an awkward silence when Nero's gone, and I clear my throat."President Coin would be in favour of blocking the tunnels, I think."

"Yes, I think she would,"Boggs agrees, sadness evident in his gaze. Gale gets to his feet, turning to me, looking shocked at his own idea now. I know he's frustrated and just wants to get back to Madge, but I can't let a suggestion like this slide. He adresses the room at large."It was just an idea."

"I'm against it,"Olive says instantly. Lyme sighs heavily."We'll let this sink in for now. We needn't bother General Coin with 'what ifs' and 'maybes' at this point."

Here in Two, while they give Coin the highest military titel as de facto leader of the rebellion, no one refers to her as President. I find myself quite taken with that. Lyme regards the room at large, then dismissed everyone." If there is no new ideas by the day after tomorrow, we shall revisit Soldier Hawthorne's suggestion."

When Olive brushes past me and Gale on her way out of the room, she makes sure to ram him with her shoulder as hard as she can manage.

_)o(_

_it's almost mockingjay part 2 week aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah_

_i'll see it wednesday so no spoilers until then pretty please xx_

_(prayer circle for hayffie to become canon)_


	39. Chapter 39

_MOCKINGJAY WAS SO GOOD I'M STILL SCREAMING (also crying but mainly screaming)  
_

_)o(_

Gale comes by my room a day later after dinner. The bruise on his jaw is a dark purple by now, but he doesn't seem to really care. He gives me a small smile."Think you can get Olive to talk to me for a minute?"

I shrug."Maybe. Why now, though? Think she's ready to forgive you? She holds a grudge like a champ, you know."

"I actually have more than 'sorry' for her now,"he replies."You know the reenforcements that came in from Thirteen this afternoon? Boggs has to brief their leaders, so he's distracted. Nero'll take us into the Victor's Village."

"He forgave you pretty easily, huh?"I say. Gale frowns."Yeah, actually. But I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so..."

I sigh heavily."Well, he's the sweetest. I mean, he's so nice to me, and I killed his brother."

"You didn't. The mutts - and the nightlock - "

I cut Gale off by holding up my hand."I pushed him off the Cornucopia. I don't want to talk about it, okay? Let's see if Olive's up to it."

The Capitol didn't count Cato's death as my doing, and I don't think _anyone_ but me actually does, but that doesn't stop it from being true.

"Go away!"Olive calls as soon as I knock. I sigh and only pound against the door harder. "Liv, it's Prim. Open the damn door, will you?"

Now Olive opens the door at my second knock, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the sight of Gale. Before she can slam the door, he's already wedged his shoulder agianst it. Realising he won't let her close it, Olive crosses her arms and glares at him."What do you want?"

When he explains, her frown quickly turns to a smile. She nods and gives Gale a goodnatured fistbump against the shoulder."Okay, _fine_, we're friends again. Now, when do we leave?"

Aurelius and Nero meet us outside, almost as excited as Olive at the prospect of going to see the Victors. from what I've gathered, Aurelius's family has also taken to the Víllage, as both sides of the conflict have accepted it as neutral territory.

We're only halfway of the base when someone grabs my arm. I turn around to find myself faced with Pollux.

_Where do you think you're going?_, he demands. I grin sheepishly. _Victor's Village. Don't tell on us. Please?_

_If you let me come, _he replies, and I agree. It's not like one more person sneaking out really makes a difference.

We're almost at the Victor's Village when Olive suddenly frowns."Why's there soldiers at the fence?"

"They're wearing Thirteen uniforms,"Gale adds, and just like that, we all break into a run. There's about a dozen of Thirteen's soldiers at the gates to the Victor's Village, Brutus, Enobaria and a few others on the inside. I push my way past the soldiers."What's going on here?"

The apparent leader of the group shoots me an annoyed look, then does a doubletake as he recognises me."We're to bring them to our side."

"Is that so?"Enobaria says pleasantly."Because just now, I could've sworn it sounded like you were threatening to kill us."

Olive lets out a low whistle."Oooh, rookie mistake. Never threaten a Victor."

"We are to bring you to join the rebellion with all means necessary,"the soldier says, unperturbed. I catch Pollux out of the corner of my eye, pulling out his camera. He's as mad as Cressida when it comes to the possibility of good footage. Enobaria raises an eyebrow."That still sounds like a threat. Take a step back so we can come out, why don't you?"

"Why don't you just come out now?"he challenges. The female Victor smiles, but it's one of those smiles that's more a bearing of teeth."Because the children are in here, and I think you're just stupid enough to try to get past us if you think you're close enough. And I'd hate to have to tear your pathetic little throat out." She gestures to her clothes. "This is a new blouse. I don't want your blood all over it."

The soldier hesitates, but then seems to decide there's no harm in doing what she asks if that'll get some of the Victors outside. Before the gate is closed again, Enobaria sends Nero and Aurelius inside, to check on the defenses and especially the children. Then she hugs Olive, turning her back to the soldiers in the process. It's a clear sign that she refuses to view them as a danger, but I think it's another of those subleties lost on the residents of Thirteen.

I use their distraction to hiss to Gale,"D'you have your communicuff? Call Boggs." He can't know of this, he just can't. But maybe - "And Lyme. Her first."

Then I place myself between the soldiers and the contigent of Victors as subtly as possible."You can't honestly think it's in the rebellion's best interest to attack them. Two is vital to our efforts."

"Two is not fighting the way they should,"the soldier, Veyt his nametag reads, says. Brutus chuckles derisively."And how should we do things according to you, little boy?"

Veyt bristles at be adressed in such a way. I quickly talk over anything he might say."You do realise the rebellion _started _in Two, Five, and Eleven?"

"They let themselves be subdued,"Veyt say with more distaste than I feel this warrants. I cross my arms and put on my best imitation of Mum's _I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed _look."Well, you've been pretty subdued for seventy-five years."

"Look, my people are just hoping to live in peace,"another Victor - I think she's called Gaia - says."But by all means, go ahead and give me a reason to kill you."

Veyt hesitates, but then raises his gun."You'd do better to give me a reason _not _to kill you. You have cooperated with Snow, and now you are refusing to fight him."

"_I _cooperated with Snow,"I point out helpfully."Now I'm the face of this rebellion. Really, if your reasoning's that bad, you might as well shoot me."

I grab his arm and draw the gun in my direction. "Go on,"I challenge."If you're so up for killing some Victors, start by shooting me. Shoot me."

His eyes are wide with surprise, but his gun remains pointed at me. I hold my arms out to my sides in mock-invitation."Get on with it! Shoot me. Shoot me! SHOOT ME!"

I don't know what I expected, but him pulling the trigger certainly wasn't it.

_)o(_

_I wrote the first draft of this in 2013 can you believe it? It's still saved on my phone lol and now it's finally here_

_Prim pokered and Prim fucked up... :)_


	40. Chapter 40

I'm spattered with blood before the bullet hits me. Enobaria staggers back, the bullet having passed straight through her. It's lodged in my shoulder now rather than my heart, where Veyt was aiming. For a split second that feels like forever, absolute silence surrounds us. Then Enobaria goes down and Olive shrieks in fury. She flings herself at the shooter and knocks him off his feet, slamming his head against the ground over and over and over again. My hands are pressed against Enobaria's wound and I'm screaming now, too. For everyone to stop and someone to help me and at Enobaria to stay with me, _stay with me goddammit._

Gale darts past me and I just have time to think 'Oh, good, he'll get Olive off that guy' when he grabs the soldier next to her and starts pummeling him. Brutus and the other Victors spring into action aswell, and I think the soldiers are too shocked to properly react. This wasn't how their mission was supposed to go.

Behind me, the gate opens again as more join the scuffle. Aurelius kneels down next to me, and I tell him how he can help. Enobaria's drifting in and out of conciousness by now.

Between the Victors and the other residents of Two that sought refugee here, Thirteen's soldiers are quickly disarmed and bound with their own handcuffs. I'm still doing my best on Enobaria's injuries when something starts pounding on my back."Get away from her! Get away from her!"

I throw a glance over my shoulder just long enough to see a small girl hammering her fists against me. I barely feel it, adrenaline rushing. I hardly even feel the bullet, so the kid can't hurt me. I shrug her off anyway."I'm helping her."

Nero drags the girl back, but she just lunges forward again."You're killing her! Stop touching her! You'll kill her like you did Cato! Nero! Make her stop!"

That's when I realise who the girl is.

Tulia's screams ebb into sobs after a while and I don't allow myself to look at her. Her words alone are enough to make my hands shake, and I really can't deal with that right now. By the time I'm satisfied I did all I can do, Boggs and Lyme are running towards us.

They stop dead at the sight before them. Boggs glances from one to the next, until he stops at Olive. Her lip's split and her knuckles are bleeding and Gale _still _has to restrain her."What on earth happened here?"

"Those clowns thought they could win us for their cause by threatening us,"Brutus supplies. Boggs raises his eyebrows in disbelieve."Let them get up. I want a proper explanation for such gross misconduct."

"Who the fuck thought it would be a good idea to shoot Baria?"Lyme asks, kneeling down next to me to check the other Victor's vitals. I sigh."To be fair, she stepped in the way. He was trying to shoot me."

"What,"Boggs grinds out. It doesn't even sound like a question, it sounds like a threat. I instinctively shrink back, even though his glare isn't leveled at me. "Who?"

I don't think it would be wise to respond, but Olive's already pointing out Veyt rather gleefully. The soldier has just about made it back to his feet when Boggs knocks him back down. I hear bone breaking as his fist makes contact with Veyt's jaw and by the soldier's howl of pain, it's pretty clear _whose. _Lyme gets up and puts a hand on Boggs' shoulder."Really, Commander, now's not the time."

She says it rather indulgently, and Aurelius lets out a low whistle."I do _not_ want your Dad mad at me ever."

"He's not my Dad,"I say weakly, but really, I agree with him. Gale grins down at me."Not yet, anyways."

I let out another sigh."Can you all just shut up? And can we get Baria to a hospital? Like, right now. I've stabalised her, but that won't last." I do my best not to look down at my bloodstained hands still pressed to her abdomen. It's too familiar."Can we just get a move on?"

* * *

"Are you okay?"Olive whispers as they wheel Enobaria down the hall. I nod shakily, vaguely aware that she's leading me somewhere."You look pretty shaken. I mean, you should be, but -"

"You know when you're on the verge of a flashback and it doesn't happen but it doesn't go away either?"I blurt out. Olive nods, helping me sit down on a gurney."Yeah. D'you want me to get someone? Gale?"

I shake my head."No, stay, please. Just - I don't know, tell me something. Anything. So I know it's you, and me, and here."

"Uhm, I think Aurelius fancies Nero,"Olive offers. I roll my eyes."No shit. I'm thirteen, not blind. Something else. Something interesting. C'mon, you're supposed to distract me here."

She thinks for a moment, then grins."I punched a bunch of Thirteen weenies and I can't even get in trouble 'cause Boggs did, too. Plus, I'm pretty sure Coin's gonna deny that she sent them to kill the Victors. So _they_ will get punished for getting their asses handed to them. Is this the greatest day ever or what?"

"You have weird priorities,"I remark, but it's working. That comment is just so _Olive_, I'd be hardpressed to forget it's her. She shrugs."Yeah, well, I just know what makes me happy."

I wriggle my eyebrows at her."Speaking of, how are things with Johanna?"

"Oh, shut up,"Olive says, trying hard to look nonchalant. Her cheeks are burning, though. She clears her throat awkwardly."Why? Did she say something to you?" Before I can say anything, she holds up her hand. "Don't answer that. You just infected me with your - being thirteen-ness."

"How rude of me, to be my own age of all things,"I say and Olive sighs overly dramatically."I know. But just this once, I'll forgive you."

Just then Gale walks into the room."What do you think you're doing? You have a bullet in your shoulder! I've been looking for you everywhere. C'mon, you're seeing a doctor right now."

"You're just afraid Boggs's gonna blame you if I don't," I say, but get up anyway. Gale raises his eyebrows at me. "Well, yeah. He did leave me in charge, afterall."

"Don't see why he wouldn't put me in charge. I'm a very responsible person,"Olive puts in. I give her an incredulous look."You lost your shit on a bunch of armed soldiers!"

"Responsibly,"agrees Olive."Plus, you yelled at someone to shoot you until they did. I'm pretty sure that's worse."

All colour drains from my face. For the first time that day, I'm truly, utterly terrified."He's gonna tell Mum on me, isn't he?"


	41. Chapter 41

Once my shoulder is taken care of, we sit down and wait for news on Enobaria. It's not all too long before a doctor steps out and tells us that we can see her. Gale rather waits outside, but Olive and I head right in. Enobaria's propped up against a few pillows and looks well enough, really.

"Hey,"I say, because I don't really know what else to say."Thank you. For saving my life and all."

Enobaria scoffs."Don't flatter yourself. It was a reflex. I'm just not into people shooting little kids."

"Uh... thanks for having good reflexes?"I look to Olive for help, but she doesn't seem to find anything wrong with the exchange. Instead, she plops down on the edge of Enobaria's bed."So, how are you, Baria?"

"Well enough,"she says, face softening now that she's no longer looking at me."Lyme insisted I stay the night, but really, I'm fine." She smiles. "Now tell me what happened to those arseholes from Thirteen."

"I'll just leave, then, shall I?" Neither of them reacts to that, so I wait for a few more seconds and then go back out to Gale. He raises his eyebrows at me."That was quick."

"Yeah." I shrug. "I don't really get Baria, to be honest."

"Fair enough,"Gale replies."So, should we head back to the base? Nero'll bring his sister to see Enobaria and then he'll take Olive home, so we don't have to wait if you don't want to."

"Yeah, let's head out." I really don't think I could deal with seeing Tulia again today.

* * *

"How are you?"Boggs asks the second he sees me, crouching down slightly so he's at my eyelevel, worry clear on his face. I wave him off, slightly embarrassed."I'm fine. I barely got hurt. Don't worry, okay? What'll happen now?"

He sighs, running his hand over his face tiredly."It's all a huge mess. The President had me arrest them all, and now she's pushing to crush the Mountain and get you back to Thirteen."

"So she's saying she didn't have anything to do with that,"I note."Does that mean we're going with Gale's idea?"

Again, Boggs sighs."I'm afraid so. They're preparing now."

* * *

By evening, Olive and I are suited up in our propo outfits, she with her axe and I with an earpiece that connects me to Haymitch in Thirteen - just in case a good opportunity for a propo arises. We wait on the roof of the Justice Building with a clear view of our target.

Our hoverplanes are initially ignored by the commanders in the Mountain, because in the past they've been little more trouble than flies buzzing around a honeypot. But after two rounds of bombings in the higher elevations of the mountain, the planes have their attention. By the time the Capitol's antiaircraft weapons begin to fire, it's already too late.

Gale's plan exceeds anyone's expectations. Beetee was right about being unable to control the avalanches once they'd been set in motion. The mountainsides are naturally unstable, but weakened by the explosions, they seem almost fluid. Whole sections of the Mountain collapse before our eyes, obliterating any sign that human beings have ever set foot on the place. We stand speechless, tiny and insignificant, as waves of stone thunder down the mountain. Burying the entrances under tons of rock. Raising a cloud of dirt and debris that blackens the sky. Turning the Mountain into a tomb.

I imagine the hell inside the mountain. Sirens wailing. Lights flickering into darkness. Stone dust choking the air. The shrieks of panicked, trapped beings stumbling madly for a way out, only to find the entrances, the launchpad, the ventilation shafts themselves clogged with earth and rock trying to force its way in. Live wires flung free, fires breaking out, rubble making a familiar path a maze. People slamming, shoving, scrambling like ants as the hill presses in, threatening to crush their fragile shells.

The day my father died comes back to me at full force. I feel as helpless as I did when I was waiting for Katniss to come collect me, they way she promised she would if the sirens ever sounded.

The elevators were screeching, burning up and down their cables as they vomited smoke-blackened miners into the light of day. With each group came cries of relief, relatives diving under the rope to lead off their husbands, wives, children, parents, siblings. We stood in the freezing air as the afternoon turned overcast, a light snow dusted the earth. The elevators moved more slowly now and disgorged fewer beings. I knelt on the ground and pressed my hands into the cinders, wanting so badly to pull my father free. If there's a more helpless feeling than trying to reach someone you love who's trapped underground, I don't know it. The wounded. The bodies. The waiting through the night. Blankets put around your shoulders by strangers. A mug of something hot that you don't drink. And then finally, at dawn, the grieved expression on the face of the mine captain that could only mean one thing.

What did we just do?

Gale's hand is clamped around my uninjured shoulder, and I'm not sure whether he's holding up me or himself. Haymitch's voice in my ear is so harried that I think he must have been calling my name for a while."Prim! Can you hear me? Goddammit, kid, talk to me!"

"I'm here,"I say tonelessly.

"Get inside. Just in case the Capitol tries to retaliate with what's left of its air force," he instructs.

I do what he tells me, sitting down on the floor as soon as I am inside. Olive and Nero are staring out of the window side by side, unmoving, their hands clasped tighly together. We might be killing his mother at this very moment. I turn my face away.

Boggs crouches down beside me, his skin pale in the shadows. "We didn't bomb the train tunnel, you know. Some of them will probably get out."

"And then we'll shoot them when they show their faces?" I ask.

"Only if we have to," he answers.

"We could send in trains ourselves. Help evacuate the wounded," I say.

"No. It was decided to leave the tunnel in their hands. That way they can use all the tracks to bring people out," says Boggs. He brushes a stray strand of hair out of my face."You know we had no other choice."

"That doesn't make me feel any better,"I say. Boggs nods."My neither."

He gets up."You're cold. I'll see if I can find a blanket." He goes before I can protest. I don't want a blanket, even if the marble continues to leech my body heat.

"How you doing, sweetheart?"Haymitch asks. I shrugs before I remember he can't see me."Better than those people in the Mountain."

He falls silent after that, and Boggs soon returns. He wraps a blanket around my shoulders and then sits down next to me, putting his arm around me. I lean into him gratefully."Aren't you supposed to be outside?"

He's silent for just a moment too long before replying,"Lyme's got it under control."

I feel like I should protest that he thinks I need coddeling, but I don't want him to take me by my word and leave, so I say nothing.

I'm almost dozing off when suddenly, Boggs shifts out from under me. I'm wide awake instantly, yelling after him."What's going on?"

"Olive disappeared,"he replies."As did Cressida and her team."

I catch up to him quickly."Why would they do that?"

"We told her she could go once the situation was more under control,"Boggs replies, still walking so briskly I have to jog to keep up."Apparently waiting is not in her vocabulary."

"But the people here love her,"I argue."She's going to be fine. Right?"

Boggs gives me an incredulous look."The _rebels_ love her. There's no saying what loyalists might do to her. They think she's a traitor."

I stop dead once we make it outside. There's smoke billowing, gunshots sounding and wounded people everywhere. I gasp for breath and try to stay calm."So how the hell are we even going to find her in this mess?"

"_You _are_ g_oing back inside right now,"Boggs says, just as Olive's voice booms across the square."People of District Two, this is Olivine Kentwell speaking. I ask you to lay your weapons down now. We do not have a conflict with the other districts but for the one Snow made. He's a coward who'd have others fight his battle and works with poison. Is that really the man you want to align yourselves with?"

"Where is she?"Boggs mutters just as Aurelius pops up next to us."There's only three places where she'd have good enough reception. Steps of the Justice Building, right infront of the Mountain, and inside Command."

Inside is safe, so we can definitely rule that out, and we're standing on the steps of the Justice Building. Boggs groans."Oh for fuck's sake!"

And just like that, we're all running.

"Tell me why I shouldn't just shoot you, you traitor."

Someone's gotten close enough to Olive for her mic to pick up their voice properly, which isn't good at all. But I can hear the unwavering self-confidence in Olive's voice, though."Because that's what Snow would want you to do. And we're not slaves, especially not his. We're bringing him down. I'm not a traitor."

"But you -"

"I'm doing what's best for our district. Don't be a coward."

"Oh my god, is she antagonizing someone with a gun?"I choke out. Aurelius laughs."Well, look who's talking!"

We still have a long way to go to get to her, but suddenly the screens all around flicker to life. Olive's facing off with a man who has blood running down his face and his gund firmly pointed at her. All around us, the fighting has stopped. I freeze, too, transfixed by the nearest screen.

"I am now coward,"he says quietly. Olive holds out her hand to him."Prove it, then."

And just like that, he flips the gun in his grip and hands it to Olive butt first. She smiles and lays it on the ground between them."We shouldn't fight eachother when we have Snow to bring down. Brother."

And then they're embracing eachother and the eery silence that fell over the square moments before is replaced by roaring applause.

_)o(_

_Ain't nothing gonna happen to Olive on my watch. (that's a blatant lie, we all know I fuck up my precious widdle lovelies as a hobby)_

_but this time it's true! yay!_


	42. Chapter 42

We make our way through the crowd, looking up at the screens every now and again to make sure Olive is still okay. She's helping the injured evacuate by no, the camera still following her every move. Boggs seems calmer now that there's no immediate danger anymore, and Aurelius stops to chat to someone I don't know.

Olivce has the decency - or maybe it's more a survival instinct - to look sheepish when Boggs reaches her. He looks at the people around us, and sighs. "Later,"he tells Olive simply, and then goes to help aswell. I take out my medikit and set to work myself.

Soon, Gale comes towards me, carrying a soot and blood covered woman."Prim! Some help here?"

"I'm okay,"she protests weakly, but lets me check her out while Gale snorts,"Like hell. Your bone's showing on your left arm." To me, he adds,"She wouldn't get medical help until she helped get everyone out of the train. With her freaking bone sticking out."

The woman half scowls, half smiles."Well, I am right-handed, it was no problem."

Something's familiar about her, but I can't put my finger on it. I draw air in sharply as I take a proper look at her arm."This'll hurt pretty badly,"I warn her as I asses what tools I'll need."We could take you to the hospital instead. They have painkillers and surgeons and stuff."

"They'll be busy with those with severe injuries,"she admonishes."Go on, girl, no point in waiting."

"Mum!" She looks up at the voice, her face splitting into a huge grin."Nero! Pumpkin! You're okay!"

"Pumpkin?"I mouth at Gale as Nero and his mother embrace, barely keeping in a snicker. Gale only shrugs, but I can tell he's surpressing a laugh himself. Nero gently untangles himself from his mother and gestures to us."Gale, Prim, my Mum, Circe. Mum, those are my friends. Gale Hawthorne, and I think you'll recognise Primrose Everdeen?"

Circe gives me a once-over, eyebrows raised in surprise, and then nods."You are very tiny in person, dear."

"So people keep telling me,"I reply weakly.

* * *

"What were you thinking?"Boggs says as soon as we are all inside, out of sight of the people hailing Olive as some sort of hero. Before she can respond, he turns to the camera team."And you! Cressida, I thought you had more sense than that!"

"You did?"she asks, genuinely astonished as far as I can tell."Really? Have you _met _me?"

I laugh, which only makes Boggs glare at me aswell. Olive clears her throat."It worked, didn't it?"

"Well, yes,"Boggs admits testily."But you had no way of knowing that. You could have been injured, maimed, killed, any number of things."

Olive nods."Well, yeah. I looked at the odds and all. I figured, like, it would either work out or I'd die. That's a win win situation if I've ever seen one." Her smile is at odds with her statement."Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to wash my hands." She wiggles her bloodstained fingers infront of us."Horribly unsanitary, or so Mrs E tells me."

"You needed my Mum to tell you other people's blood was unhygenic?"I chirp as I follow her. I'm not letting her out of my sight after a comment like that.

* * *

Only once we are all on a hovercraft back to Thirteen do I allow myself to drift off. Everyone is cramped into a relatively small space, so I'm sure Olive will be okay. I'm not even sure she really meant what she said, anyway, she has a very dark humour. And I know a thing or two about wishing to be dead, yet here I still am.

Either way, I make sure to sit next to her, just in case she wants to talk. "You can wake me up if you get bored,"I tell her, and then settle with my head against her shoulder to catch some shut-eye.

She ends up only waking me when we're already about to land. I stretch my sore muscles, happy to be back and see everyone again. Boggs checks his communicuff."We're expected to head to the hospital first thing, make sure no lasting harm was done."

"We just were to the hospital,"Olive says, and Gale rolls his eyes."It's almost as if Coin doesn't trust others. Weird."

Altough I'd rather have some time with my loved ones, I dutifully follow Boggs to the hospital. I've disobeyed enough orders lately. I guess I should have expected Mum to wait there for us, anyways. A boy of about five jumps from her lap and runs at boggs, who picks him up and spins him around. I have a vague memory of seeing them together in the cafeteria; I guess he's his son. I'm also guessing his mother isn't in the picture with the eyes _my _mother and Boggs are making at eachother. Gross.

My Mum hugs me, peppering my face with kisses and checking me for obvious injuries before turning to Olive and repeating the process, minus all the kissing. Boggs's little boy is beaming down at me from his father's arms."We haven't met yet. Really met. But I know all about you. You're Prim."

"You got me,"I say with a smile, playfully booping his nose, feeling horrible that I don't even know his name when he's giving me a look that borders on adoration, almost the way Posy looks at her brothers. Boggs smiles aswell, coming to my rescue without his son noticing."Prim's gotta see a doctor, Bane. Make sure she has no ouchies."

"Yeah, Bane,"I say,"But after that, what do you say we play a game together?"

_)o(_

_lmao I just named that poor kid Bane Boggs wth why_

_but eh cute family in the making uwu_


	43. Chapter 43

_tw for selfharm/suicide attempt_

_)o(_

"So, how were things here while I was gone?"I ask as my mother closes the examroom door behind herself. She gives me a small smile."Pretty good. I was allowed to see Katniss a few times."

"Really?" Plutarch gave me sporadic updates on my sister in Two, but he neglected to mention that."How is she? How did she react? D'you think I'll get to see her? What did she say? Did you talk about me?"

Mum raises her hand to stop me, still smiling. In my excitement, I didn't give her a chance to answer a single question before barging on."She's much better, but she still can't really tell what actually happened and what the Capitol made her think. She... doesn't quite know what to make of you. I think she's starting to believe me that you're actually you. It's just that her brain doesn't let her."

I swallow hard."So she still wants to kill me?"

"She hasn't said anything like that for a while,"my mother says, and I smile, feeling pathetic a moment later. My own sister not wanting to kill me shouldn't be this big a thing. I hate Snow. I hate him so much.

Mum pulls me into a hug, able to tell what I'm thinking or at least the general feeling."She's getting better. We'll be okay."

As if to disprove that sentiment, Olive starts screaming outside. It's unintelligble at first, but when Mum wrenches the door open, I can make out words."I want to be dead! If this is better, I want to be dead."

The door to the other examroom is open, and within the few seconds it takes us to get there, Olive's screaming has ebbed into sobs. She's in the middle of a mess of shattered glass, cowering on the ground. Johanna's arms are wrapped around her as the Victor whispers beseechingly. A particularly large shard is covered in blood and there's more slowly pooling next to the two women. A pale, shaken doctor looks from them to us."I only told her she could take that bracelet off. Her psych eval checks out."

Mother takes him by the arm and leads him out of the room, not ungently. I follow uncertainly. But I think Jo might be more help right now then I would. We wait outside in total silence. I wring my hands nervously but don't dare to go back into the hospital room for fear of making it worse. After what feels like an eternity but can't have been more than a few minutes, Johanna opens the door a crack and gestures for me to come in. The doctor protests but quickly withers under Jo's glare."It's Everdeen or no one. Your call."

Olive is worryingly pale, but forces a small smile at the sight of me."Don't look at me like that, Prim. I'm perfectly fine."

"You sliced open your fucking arm,"Johanna says, her voice not as detached as I've become used to. Olive attempts to wave her off but lacks the energy to raise her hand. Jo sits down next to Olive, who immediately burrows against her."Only a little bit, Jo. Only a little bit."

"Let me see, then,"I say, taking Olive's hand in my own and unwrapping the bandage Jo must've put on her. I cast another worried look at Olive."You need to stay awake for me, Liv, okay? Jo, can you go get me some donor blood?"

"No,"Olive whines, clinging onto Johanna."You can't leave me. You have to stay."

"You just tried to die on me,"Johanna admonishes, gently untangling herself from Olive."I'll be back in a second, okay? Just do what Everdeen says. I'll only be a second, love. Okay?"

"Okay,"Olive's voice is barely even a whisper.

* * *

I'm still forced to go to Command as soon as I'm done with Olive. They tried to make her go to psych again, but Johanna refuses to let them take her, and Boggs told the doctors to drop it.

"You're late,"Coin say when I enter the room. I'm sure she knows exactly what happened and is just being spiteful, so I just shrug. Two can play that game."Yeah, well, I thought I maybe _shouldn't _let Olive bleed out. I'll run that by you first next time."

She waves me off imperiously."Sit down, Soldier, and stop wasting everyone's time."

"What happened?"Gale hisses as I sit down next to him. I shake my head to indicate we'll talk later."Jo's with her."

That seems to relax him somewhat, and we both turn our attention to Coin. She starts off with a short recap of the events in Two, leaving out her soldiers attacking the Victors, then compliments us on taking the district before asking for further suggestions on how to proceed. The common concensus is that we should take time to regroup, now that Two has fallen in with us.

Then, Boggs clears his throat."I think we should make another attempt to find the Kentwells. And Gloss Addlington." He pauses briefly, then presses on."It would be a sign of unity among the distircts and further demoralise the Capitol's forces." _And possibly stabalise Olive's mental status, _goes unspoken.

Plutrach chimes in,"My contacts are active again. I think it could be done." At the skeptic look Coin gives him, he only smiles."And we believe they might be holding Peeta Mellark in the same facility."

Coin purses her lips, half distaste, half thought. Finally, she nods."The boy will be our priority. He always was a good speaker."

_)o(_

_sorry for this chapter I am so exhausted_

_christmas time kills me (i work retail)_

_no days of and longer hours = me dying urghs_

_i am so tired someone send help_


	44. Chapter 44

_Sorry for missing the update last week, but as I said, retail worker up in this thing. And the free days I spend with my family, it was quite lovely :)_

_Happy New Year to everyone! Yay 2016 ;)_

_)o(_

Haymitch leads me out of Command and along a few corridors,"You realise what she's doing, don't you?"

I shrug."Get Peeta to be her spokesperson because I'm really bad at it?"

"Well, yes, basically." Haymitch scowls at me and sighs heavily."But that's not it. She wants you out of the picture. Once Snow's gone, there will be a new government. And what do you think who people will look to for guidance? They'll be waiting to see who you'll back for president."

"And that wouldn't be Coin." I'm beginning to understand where this is going."When she sent us to Two - she didn't think we'd make it back, did she?"

"Hoped you wouldn't,"Haymitch agrees."We all thought Olive was going to get herself killed, running into the field like that. It's pure luck the people reacted that way. If she gets Peeta, you're completely useless to her."

"So? It's not like we can change that. It's not like we can just abandon Peeta to the Capitol."

There is a pause that makes my insides freeze. I stop dead in my tracks and stare at Haymitch, incredulous. He looks like his words pain him,"They've had him for over a year. There's no saying what they've done to him. If he's even still Peeta."

"If he's like Katniss, you mean,"I challenge. He doesn't deny it."It took me twenty-four years to get a kid out alive. I'm not watching you burn yourself down for others now."

I sneer at him to keep the tears from falling."Haven't you heard? I'm the girl on fire."

He doesn't follow me when I walk away.

* * *

I go to the hospital, wanting to tell Olive that she'll get her parents back. The mission is happening, and I refuse to see that as a bad thing. Coin has wanted me gone long enough as it is. Peeta won't change that. And even if it were like that, I wouldn't care. He needs to be rescued, he deserves at least a chance at a normal life. I'd rather die than live with the knowledge I abandoned him _again_.

Olive's asleep when I reach the hospital, curled up in Johanna's arms. The Victor's face is almsot soft in sleep and I step closer without thinking about it. They look peaceful like that, almost as if nothing was wrong in the world.

The heavy bandages on Olive's arm and the morphling drip attatched to Jo's - not actually hers, I'm guessing - speak a different language, of course. But I ignore that as I lay down on the bed next to theirs, allowing myself to revel in the false sense of security they're exuding.

It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep.

When I wake up again, Olive's staring at me across the gap between the hospital beds."You hurt or spying on me?"

"Neither,"I say with a huge yawn."I came to tell you there's another rescue attempt. You looked so peaceful I decided to let you sleep."

"Rescue attempt? My parents, you mean?"

I nod."They're still planning, though, I don't know when it'll actually happen."

Just then, the door is opened and our conversation cut off. Olive swiftly detaches her morhpling drip from Johanna and rams it back into her own arm without so much as wincing, Johanna only stirring slightly in her sleep. The doctor doesn't seem to notice, too preoccupied with my presence."You're not supposed to be here. They're looking for you, you know. Your sister's been asking to see you."

"She has?"It's barely a whisper and I don't wait for an answer anyways, racing along corridors and down stairs to get to her. She wants to see me. She really wants to see me!

I stop just short of flinging her door open and barging in, instead going next door into the observation room. Plutarch looks up from a clipboard and smiles at me."Ah, you're here, wonderful! We'll just let you head on in, Primrose. She did well with all the others so far."

"All the others?"I echo. She didn't do anywhere near well with Delly and as far as I'd heard, only my mother had been to see her. Plutarch only nods."Yes, yes, particularly Miss Undersee and Effie Trinket. She has been asking for Johanna Mason, too, but we don't think that would be advisable."

I'm guessing that's because their only connection is the Capitol prison, but I don't want to waste time with questions. I wipe my sweaty hands on my trousers."I'll just go in, thenn, shall I?"

My mouth is dry and my heart's pounding like crazy, but I'm excited, too. She wants to see me.

There's restraints on her arms still, but she isn't fighting them this time. I smile weakly as I stop right infront of her bed."Hey, Katniss."

"Hello,"she says wearily, as if she's as uncertain as I am what to say or do next. I shuffle awkwardly, wiping my hands on my clothes again."So - you wanted to talk?"

She shrugs, chewing on her lower lip."Look at you, mostly." Her grey eyes are more sad than angry, and I don't know whether I should be glad."You're still just a little kid, aren't you?"

Now it's at me to shrug helplessly as she continues to scrutinise me."Mum says it's really you. So do Effie and Madge." She motions for me to step closer and, with a furtive glance at the two-way mirror, I do. Katniss grabs my wrist and turns the inside of my arm up for her inspection. Her grip is too tight, so tight it hurts, but I don't pull away. She studies the cresent-shape marks, the ones that refuse to fade anymore."There's no point in making a mutt do that. I don't think there is, at least. Unless that's exactly the point."

Confusing wars with something I can't place and her grip tightens further. I hiss in pain and she lets go as if burned, lips moving soundlessly.

"Primrose, back out here, please,"Plutarch voice tells me. I walk away slowly, mumbeling a "bye, Katniss, good to see you" as I do. I'm almost at the door when she speaks again. She sounds as if she's unsure of the words, but she's very nearly smiling."Tuck your shirt in."

My hand automatically goes up to do it, tears pooling in my eyes as I turn back to smile at her."Quack."


	45. Chapter 45

The next few days bring a nice respite, even though there's a flurry of activity. For once, it's not strategy and war talk, though. Instead, everyone's busy planning Finnick and Annie's wedding.

The differences between the Capitol and Thirteen are thrown into sharp relief by the event. When Coin says "wedding," she means two people signing a piece of paper and being assigned a new compartment. Plutarch means hundreds of people dressed in finery at a three-day celebration. It's amusing to watch them haggle over the details. Plutarch has to fight for every guest, every musical note. After Coin vetoes a dinner, entertainment, and alcohol, Plutarch yells, "What's the point of the propo if no one's having any fun!"

It's hard to put a Gamemaker on a budget. But even a quiet celebration causes a stir in Thirteen, where they seem to have no holidays at all. When it's announced that children are wanted to sing District 4's wedding song, practically every kid shows up. There's no shortage of volunteers to help make decorations. In the dining hall, people chat excitedly about the event.

Maybe it's more than the festivities. Maybe it's that we are all so starved for something good to happen that we want to be part of it. It would explain why - when Plutarch has a fit over what the bride will wear - I volunteer to take Annie back to my house in Twelve, where I have an abundance of clothes. They'll be the wrong size, of course, but Octavia was hoping to become a stylist one day is is confident she'll manage to make something work.

So Annie, Effie, my prep team, and I are loaded into a hovercraft to Twelve. I've never really been around Annie before, but the people who call her mad are exaggerating. Sure, she's unstable, but after all she's been through, who wouldn't be?

We all are quite when we enter my house. When I open the closet, the silence feels even heavier because Cinna's presence is so strong in the flow of the fabrics. Then Octavia drops to her knees, rubs the hem of a skirt against her cheek, and bursts into tears. "It's been so long," she gasps, "since I've seen anything pretty."

It's Effie who brings us out of it, clasping her hands together and smiling."Alright, let's get to it, then!"

We riffle through my clothes as well as Mum's, knowing that Katniss's won't yield anything fitting the occasion. Flavius and Venia hold this and that up to Annie while Octavia takes messurements and makes assesments."If we take the skirt off of that one, we might be able to make it work with the blouse with the bellsleeves."

Effie and I go pick up a suit for Finnick from Haymitch's house and thenbusy ourselves with picking out items to distribute among the other guests. The all-grey of Thirteen just isn't festive, and certainly not propo material. So every little blot of colour will help, really.

Despite reservations on Coin's side that it's too extravagant, and on Plutarch's side that it's too drab, the wedding is a smash hit. The three hundred lucky guests culled from Thirteen and the many refugees mostly wear their everyday clothes, with the few additions we brought back. The decorations are made from autumn foliage, the music is provided by a choir of children, who have bowties or hairbands Octavia made from spare material while altering the clothes, and they are accompanied by the lone fiddler who made it out of Twelve with his instrument. So it's simple, frugal by the Capitol's standards. It doesn't matter because nothing can compete with the beauty of the couple. It isn't about their borrowed finery although the clothes are striking - Octavia truly outdid herself. Who can look past the radiant faces of two people for whom this day was once a virtual impossibility? Dalton from Ten conducts the ceremony, since it's similar to the one used in his district. But there are unique touches of District Four. A net woven from long grass that covers the couple during their vows, the touching of each other's lips with salt water, and the ancient wedding song, which likens marriage to a sea voyage.

After the kiss that seals the union, the cheers, and a toast with apple cider, the fiddler strikes up a tune that turns every head from Twelve. We may have been the smallest, poorest district in Panem, but we know how to dance. Nothing has been officially scheduled at this point, but Plutarch, who's calling the propo from the control room, must have his fingers crossed. Sure enough, Greasy Sae grabs Taftan by the hand and pulls him into the center of the floor and faces off with him. People pour in to join them, forming two long lines. I hold my hand out to Rory and we join the others. And the dancing begins.

It's exhilerating, nothing this carefree has happened in far too long. We teach the steps to those from Thirteen and the other districts. Olive gets the hang of it very quickly and, under much grumbling, Johanna follows her onto the dancefloor. The room is filled with laughter, people spinning around and around. Insisting on a special number for the bride and groom. Joining hands to make a giant, spinning circle where people show off their footwork. This could go on all night if not for the last event planned in Plutarch's propo. One I hadn't heard about, but then it was meant to be a surprise. Four people wheel out a huge wedding cake from a side room. Most of the guests back up, making way for this rarity, this dazzling creation with blue-green, white-tipped icing waves swimming with fish and sailboats, seals and sea flowers. It's utterly beautiful, and Rye and Taftan can't escape the people wanting to compliment them.

Once the celebration is over, Mum and I get to go see Katniss again. The conversation is somewhat stiff, but I'm in high spirits and Katniss relaxes more and more with every passing second.

Then Haymitch asks me out of the room.

"What's wrong?"I ask. He smiles."Nothing, for once. They got Peeta out."

It takes me a moment to even understand what he's telling me."What? I didn't even know - where is he?"

"Well, secret mission and all,"Haymitch replies with a shrug.


	46. Chapter 46

_Super duper late update but I had to work today sooo_

_also dark themes ahead but nothing explicit all alluded to_

_)o(_

Even though I have to jog to keep up with Haymitch's much longer strides, I still think we could be moving faster."Is he okay? Did you see him? What about Olive's parents?"

"Can't you shut up for two minutes?" Haymitch says it with a smile, though."They got the Kentwells and Gloss out, too. I don't know much else, I came to get you as soon as they told me."

"Anyone tell the Mellarks yet?"I ask. Haymitch rolls his eyes at that."Course we did, kid, we're not idiots. Effie is informing them right about now."

I don't ask anything else for the rest of the way, too excited to even sort out any more questions. My heart's in my throat by the time we reach the hospital. Taking a deep breath, I push open the door. The curtains are pulled closed on three cubicles and when a nurse spots me, he indicates the one at the end of the room. Haymitch and I exchange a quick look before walking over. I pull back the curtain and there he is.

"Peeta,"I say, and it comes out as almost a sob. He looks up, a smile breaking across his face. The doctor squeezes his hand quickly before stepping away with a nod,"I'll give you a minute."

"Prim. Haymitch." His voice is as warm as I remember it, but he is so incredibly pale, as if he hasn't seen the sun in months. The likelihood of that being true breaks my heart. I step up to his bed, reaching out slowly, half afraid he'll disappear if I touch him. He meets my hand halfway, pulling me closer with a gentle tug."Oh, it's so good to see you, Prim."

Without further ado, I fall into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. I feel the bed slightly dip as Haymitch sits down on its edge."So, you're really alive, boy. We had no idea."

Peeta pets my hair absentmindedly."Yeah, well, that was the plan, wasn't it? Stay alive."

"Plans have a tendency of failing,"Haymitch remarks."Or turning bad. You okay? What did they do to you?"

I shoot up so fast I almost knock my head into Peeta's chin."You don't have to answer that." I glare at Haymitch."Don't ask something like that!"

"Prim, it's okay,"Peeta soothes."They'll want to know anyways, they brought me into their district and all. I'd rather tell you than them."

"If... if you're sure." Even though I'm not sure I want to hear it. But if he wants to get it out, I'll listen. Of course I'll listen.

And so I do.

I take in every word of what misery his life has been this past year and a half. How they took him from the Games, barely alive, and fixed him back up. A bargaining chip for Crane's life. How Snow traipsed him around his most loyal, most needed cronies. How he was given to them as an incentive or a reward. Kept in the rooms beneath the Presidental Manson, alone save for Lavinia and Darius, both a respite from the solitude and yet just there to keep him doing what Snow demanded. Their lives in his hand. How they moved him from one prison to another after the Quell, a device to further torture and manipulate Madge and Katniss. How they made him watch the bombing of Twelve over and over and over. How he was moved again, and heard of the rescue only days later.

He talks and talks, his voice steady, but there's tears streaming down his face. I hold his hand and force my own tears away. I have to keep it together, that's the least I can do for him.

Once he stops, a heavy silence descends on the room. It's broken by someone clearing their throat. We all look up to see Effie standing there somewhat uncertainly."I - I asked your brothers to wait outside for a moment so I could check in. Are you up to seeing them?"

"Effie,"his voice breaks and he stretches his arms out to her like a child. She rocks him as he sobs, as he whimpers, "I could hear you, I could hear, I couldn't do anything, but I could always hear you scream."

"I'll go tell them you need a few more minutes,"Haymitch mutters and gets up abruptly, looking like he might be sick any second. Neither Effie nor Peeta react, so I don't even bother making excuses as I leave them alone. I feel like an intruder.

I walk past the other cubicle, aware of the sobbing behind the curtain. Cashmere, I think. I keep walking, pausing infront of the last curtain. I can't knock or anything, so I softly call for my friend,"Olive?"

"Come on in, Prim,"she replies almost instantly. I pull aside the curtain and there she is, beaming at me from where she's nestled against her mother while a doctor and two nurses are checking both her parents over. Especially her father looks rather worse for wear, but they're both concious and attentive, so I assume there's no lasting damage. I glance over my shoulder towards the other beds and then pull the curtain closed again. Olive's face darkens briefly."They avoxed Gloss."

But than that information is passed over in favour of her introducing me to her parents.

"I'd shake your hand, but, well, you see the problem,"her father, Remus, says goodnaturedly, indicating the various tubes the doctor is currently busy jamming into his arms. Her mother, Domitia, does shake my hand."Pleasure to finally meet you, dear. It's about time someone brought this whole system tumbling down."

"I didn't do much, really,"I say, flushing bright red. Olive nods, sighing heavily before shooting me a grin."She really, really didn't, Mum."

I stick out my tongue at her, making a bit of smalltalk before I excuse myself to check on the Mellarks.


	47. Chapter 47

"I don't understand."

My words hang in the air, unacknowledged and unimportant. And maybe I should have seen this coming, maybe I'm still naive, deep down, even after everything that has happened, everything that has been done to me, because I really, truly didn't think it would come to this. That she would do this.

Olive's beaming. She wanted this, was ready to fight tooth and nail for it. Cashmere looks determined, yet slightly deranged. She wants vengeance, for all the things they did over the years, but most of all for Gloss. Johanna shouldn't be here, if you ask me, and she has no business being anywhere near fighting. Coin gave her the all-clear for training anyway.

I'm the only one upset at this turn of events. Well, me and Finnick, though his disappointment stems from not being allowed even the chance of going to the Capitol. I guess Coin thinks he can be twisted into her mouthpiece if Peeta doesn't comply or proofs useless. Peeta's not yet met her but I don't think she's out of the loop where he's concerned.

He refuses to speak to the psychologists and has horrible night terros. Effie seems to soothe him some, but the nurses don't like having her in the hospital. Or, well, they say they don't. I suspect Coin's behind this because they claim it's about not upsetting him. Yet he does get to see Katniss, which actually tends to upset him. Her condition worsened again now that she has even more to confuse her. She thought Peeta was a hallucination in the Capitol. They still have the two together often, no matter that it ends with Katniss in hysterics, clawing at her skin and goes on about mutts while Peeta covers his ears and sings to himself to drown this out more often than not. Coin's clearly trying to play Thirteen's saviour-narrative to Peeta.

"It's only training,"Coin tells me with a reassuring smile that freezes my insides."We'll have to see if you'll be in a state to go to the Capitol once the time rolls around."

Now, there is no doubt in my mind that I will be participating in the storm on the Capitol. Finnick's on his feet, slamming a hand down on the table."You'll let the kid train but not me?"

The smile looks more genuine as she turns it to him."The Mockingjay keeps up morale, and she has shown considerable potential in the field on mulitple occassions." Lucking my way through a few districts while ignoring orders is apparently worthy credentials, now. "Besides, we do not make a habit of sending newlyweds into the field. We value family here, especially young families."

The mention of Annie effectively shuts him up and he takes his seat with a mumble that might have been an apology.

I look to Haymitch for help. His eyes are closed and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. I saw him sit like that before. On a screen, when his tribute lit a fire too close to the Careers after actually making it for over a week. Claudius Templesmith laughed at the girl's 'rookie mistake'. There was nothing Haymitch could do for her. I resign myself to going.

* * *

I'm in a group with the youngest kids, all of them actually older than me. They stick Johanna with me, too. She fumes at this until it becomes clear they're in better condition than she is. I'm somewhere in the middle of the field for most things, but my muscles ache more and more with each passing minute. I'm pushing past all my limits not because I want to pass assessments, but because I'm sure I will either way and I need all the help I can get.

We cross paths with other groups of trainees sometimes and their regiment is even more brutal. One day when we come out for track, the already Capitol approved group is in the middle of their training. They're loaded with weapons and supplies so much that I don't think I could even move and they sink down into the mud past their ankles with each step. Next to me, Jo has turned absolutely ashen at the sight of the rain. Our trainer, Soldier York, indicates for us to get on the track. I hang back, trying to think of something to say to Johanna, when she's already stomping into the mud. She makes it about ten yards before Olive reaches her, her backpack abandoned on the track. She pulls her back under the roof, even as her own trainer yells to 'get her ass back on that track this second'. Olive ignores him and cups Johanna's face in her hands."You don't have to, Jo."

"Yeah,"Johanna says, her voice catching."I do." She takes a deep breath."Crazy girl living in the hospital is bad enough. Can't stand a little drizzle, too? Would you take that soldier to the Capitol?"

I decide to leg it before they notice I'm still listening. Johanna catches up with me about halfway through my second lap.

When I come home to our compartment for the night, Olive is packing up her stuff."You moving out?"

"Yeah,"she says, but doesn't elaborate. I hand her one of her shirts."Your parents out of hospital, then?"

That gets me a smile."They are. But I'm just moving across the hall. I'm rooming with Jo. They won't let her live alone."

* * *

They cut my visiting privileges to both Peeta and Katniss. Rory turns fourteen and is allowed into proper training, which makes me sick to my stomach. I tell him to do as badly as he believably can. Gale apparently told him the same thing already. I'm informed we'll be headed to the Capitol in a fortnight.

I throw myself into training with a vengeance. Eat, live, and breathe the workouts, drills, weapons practice, lectures on tactics. A handful of us are moved into an additional class that gives me hope I may be a contender for the actual war. The soldiers simply call it the Block, but the tattoo on my arm lists it as S.S.C., short for Simulated Street Combat. Deep in Thirteen, they've built an artificial Capitol city block. The instructor breaks us into squads of eight and we attempt to carry out missions - gaining a position, destroying a target, searching a home - as if we were really fighting our way through the Capitol. The thing's rigged so that everything that can go wrong for you does. A false step triggers a land mine, a sniper appears on a rooftop, your gun jams, a crying child leads you into an ambush, your squadron leader - who's just a voice on the program - gets hit by a mortar and you have to figure out what to do without orders. Part of you knows it's fake and that they're not going to kill you. If you set off a land mine, you hear the explosion and have to pretend to fall over dead. But in other ways, it feels pretty real in there - the enemy soldiers dressed in Peacekeepers' uniforms, the confusion of a smoke bomb. They even gas us. Johanna and I are the only ones who get our masks on in time. The rest of our squad gets knocked out for ten minutes. And the supposedly harmless gas I took a few lungfuls of gives me a wicked headache for the rest of the day.

Cressida and her crew tape Johanna and me on the firing range. I know Gale, Olive and Cashmere are being filmed as well. It's part of a new propos series to show the rebels preparing for the Capitol invasion. They also show Peeta and Katniss on one of their better days. He's brushing a stray strand of her out of her face, she's actually smiling. It goes into a feel-good propo alongside footage of Annie and Finnick, bits from other districts - I learn Mica and Argentia are still alive and kicking - and even a bit of little kids playing in Thirteen, Bane and Posy among them.

In my rare moments of downtime, I anxiously watch the preparations for the invasions. See equipment and provisions readied, divisions assembled. You can tell when someone's received orders because they're given a very short haircut, the mark of a person going into battle. There is much talk of the opening offensive, which will be to secure the train tunnels that feed up into the Capitol.

Just a few days before the first troops are to move out, York unexpectedly tells Johanna and me she's recommended us for the exam, and we're to report immediately. There are four parts: an obstacle course that assesses your physical condition, a written tactics exam, a test of weapons proficiency, and a simulated combat situation in the Block. I consider failing on purpose but quickly throw that over and do well on the first three. There's a backlog at the Block. Some kind of technical bug they're working out. A group of us exchanges information. This much seems true. You go through alone. There's no predicting what situation you'll be thrown into. One boy says, under his breath, that he's heard it's designed to target each individual's weaknesses.

I can't think what they'd see as mine, not that it matters. I'm sure they'll go easy on me to make sure I pass.

The situation is easy indeed, until there's an explosion. There's only static on my headset and I run to investigate. I almost throw up when I turn the corner, forcing myself to remember it's all fake. Civilian casualties. No matter that it isn't real, I run over to the children. They made them Capitol kids. Gave them wigs and everything. One of the boys is holding a small figurine from the Games merch. It's Glimmer. The kid - the prop, I try fruitlessly to remind myself - is still breathing. I grab for my medkit. Just then the line comes back alive."To the checkpoint, Soldier. Now."

So this is my percieved weakness. I ignore the voice and turn back to the child. When I leave the Block, they congratulate me and stamp my hand with a squadnumber. I draw it back, perplexed."But I didn't follow orders."

The soldier smiles, strained."There's more important things than orders."

Boggs smiles sadly and shakes his head when he sees me. "Let's see it." Unsure now, I hold out my stamped hand. "You're with me. Join your squad." He nods over at a group lining the wall. The victors and Gale. Johanna is deathly pale and clutching onto Olive's hand so hard both their knuckles have turned white. There's five others I don't know. My squad. I get to work under Boggs. With my friends. At least I can trust them.

We must be important, too, because we're in Command, and it has nothing to do with a certain Mockingjay. Plutarch stands over a wide, flat panel in the center of the table. He's explaining something about the nature of what we will encounter in the Capitol. I'm thinking this is a terrible presentation - because even on tiptoe I can't see what's on the panel - until he hits a button. A holographic image of a block of the Capitol projects into the air.

"This, for example, is the area surrounding one of the Peacekeepers' barracks. Not unimportant, but not the most crucial of targets, and yet look." Plutarch enters some sort of code on a keyboard, and lights begin to flash. They're in an assortment of colors and blink at different speeds. "Each light is called a pod. It represents a different obstacle, the nature of which could be anything from a bomb to a band of mutts. Make no mistake, whatever it contains is designed to either trap or kill you. Some have been in place since the Dark Days, others developed over the years. To be honest, I created a fair number myself. This program, which one of our people absconded with when we left the Capitol, is our most recent information. They don't know we have it. But even so, it's likely that new pods have been activated in the last few months. This is what you will face."

The room falls silent. Too many of us have been through the arena to ignore this. Cashmere steps forward, reaching into the hologram."And may the odds..." Her voice is soft, but as Johanna and Olive join in, equally quietly, it has an eery quality."... be ever in your favour."

_)o(_

_this story is dangerously close to over... I'm getting really emotional already you guys!_


	48. Chapter 48

The remaining days go by in a whirl. After a brief workout each morning, my squad's on the shooting range full-time in training. We practice mostly with a gun, but they reserve an hour a day for specialty weapons, which means Gale uses his heavy militarized bow. Another axe like Olive's was made for Johanna; it has the same functions but is a sleek, simple black rather than the same extravagant design. Beete has designed a spear for Cashmere which has a lot of special features, but the most remarkable is that she can throw it, press a button on a metal cuff on her wrist, and return it to her hand without chasing it down.

Sometimes we shoot at Peacekeeper dummies to become familiar with the weaknesses in their protective gear. The chinks in the armor, so to speak. If you hit flesh, you're rewarded with a burst of fake blood. Our dummies are soaked in red.

The other soldiers are rather nice, but even the youngest - sisters, who we call Leeg 1 and Leeg 2 - are ten years older than me. I feel somewhat out of place.

I don't fully understand our status until the morning Plutarch joins us.

"Squad Four-Five-One, you have been selected for a special mission," he begins. "We have numerous sharpshooters, but rather a dearth of camera crews. Therefore, we've handpicked you to be what we call our 'Star Squad.' You will be the on-screen faces of the invasion."

Disappointment, shock, then anger run through the group. "What you're saying is, we won't be in actual combat," snaps Cashmere. Gale looks almost as relieved as I feel, though. Madge has worked herself into quite the frenzie when she found out he'd be going to the Capitol and has been transferred back to Psych.

"You will be in combat, but perhaps not always on the front line. If one can even isolate a front line in this type of war," says Plutarch.

"None of us wants that." Johanna's remark is followed by a general rumble of assent, but I stay silent. "We're going to fight."

"You're going to be as useful to the war effort as possible," Plutarch says. "And it's been decided that you are of most value on television. Just look at the effect Primrose had running around in that Mockingjay suit. Turned the whole rebellion around. Do you notice how she's the only one not complaining? It's because she understands the power of that screen."

I'm keeping my mouth shut because I see that this will make getting me accidentally killed so much harder, but I don't point that out.

* * *

After three days in the Capitol, much of Squad 451 is close to deserting out of boredom. Cressida and her team take shots of us firing. They tell us we're part of the disinformation team. If the rebels only shoot Plutarch's pods, it will take the Capitol about two minutes to realize we have the holograph. So there's a lot of time spent shattering things that don't matter, to throw them off the scent. Mostly we just add to the piles of rainbow glass that's been blown off the exteriors of the candy-colored buildings. I suspect they are intercutting this footage with the destruction of significant Capitol targets.

On the fourth day, we wake up to find Olive and Johanna have disappeared.

"They can't have gotten far,"Jackson says,"They only have paper maps."

Boggs checks his Holo, running his hand over his face."You better hope they got far. The other option is they're already dead."

"Where would they even go?"Leeg 1 demands."Every other squad would know to take them back."

I bite my lip. Consider the two women. I feel I know them well enough to know where they'll be headed."They're going to kill Snow."

"That's insane,"Leeg 2 says, so honestly surprised I can't help but laugh, almost hysterically. Cashmere just smiles."Well, that's Victors for you."

Boggs looks over the paper maps we have, then compares it to the Holo."I'm assuming they gathered what they could while I had the Holo on. I'm following their most likely route."

"I'm coming." We all say it simultaniously. Boggs doesn't bother arguing.

* * *

Two days. We have been searching for two days. Tracking through broken windows and activated pods, which could be anyone. They could be dead. They're probably dead. No one brings this up. We keep moving. The crew keeps filming, but makes sure not to show anything that might give away our location. No one tells Thirteen that we left our posts. No one brings that up, either.

We're about to settle down for the night when it happens. Jackson takes a step to the left and everything turns to hell around us. She's dead before she hits the floor. Leeg 1 is staring at the place where her own arm used to be, not moving an inch. I lunge forward to drag her back, uselessly, the explosion's over. Homes gets a bandage on the stump of her arm.

The debris starts raining down and sets off more pods as it hits.

Cashmere's yelling something, gesturing to the end of the block where we entered. Black, oily matter spouts like a geyser from the street, billowing between the buildings, creating an impenetrable wall of darkness. It seems to be neither liquid nor gas, mechanical nor natural. Surely it's lethal. There's no heading back the way we came.

Deafening gunfire as Gale and Leeg 2 begin to blast a path across the stones toward the far end of the block. I don't know what they're doing until another bomb, ten yards away, detonates, opening a hole in the street. Then I realize this is a rudimentary attempt at minesweeping.

We're running at full tilt, the black wall drawing closer. It has crested and begun to fall. Boggs shoots through the lock of a door. We rush inside, up a flight of stairs and into an apartment.

"The fumes!"Mitchell yells and we grab anything we can reach to stuff into all cracks we find. We wait it out, because that's all we can do. Leeg 1 starts crying quietly. I want to join her, but I know I won't stop if I start now.

Once we can safely go outside, Boggs orders Mitchell and Leeg 2 to take Leeg 1 back to base and get her proper medical care. The rest of us keeps moving.

There's no more talk of finding the others, though that still is officially why we keep moving. We move from house to house, avoiding the street and its cameras. I think everyone is certain they're dead now. If we can't make it with the Holo, how could they be alive?

"They're fine,"I tell Cashmere when we're on watch that night in another Capitol's apartment. I think she must understand. Must feel it, too. You don't survive the Games and die in the Capitol streets. I suppose Doctor Aurelius would tell me I'm in denial. Cashmere just shrugs."Whatever keeps us heading towards the mansion. I want to see him choke on his own blood."

Later, the television flickers to life for a madatory viewing and we watch them report our own deaths. Boggs is grimly satsified."That'll give us a while, until they notice our bodies are missing."

* * *

The next morning, I wake to find Castor and Pollux having an arguement, or at least it looks like it from their body language. Boggs is right behind me.

_What's going on?, _I ask Pollux, as he's usually more likely to be straight-forward. He's pale and looks horrified, but his hands are steady as he replies._ I remembered something. I think I know where Olive and Johanna went. I told Olive about my punishment._

I'm surprised. I didn't know he had anything done to him besides the avoxing, which is bad enough. But then I think of Lavinia and Darius and it makes sense. I don't interrupt Pollux._ I think they're underground. I worked there. No pods during the day._

We're underground within minutes of breaking camp. It's terrifying and I can see why Castor didn't want his brother coming back here.

Under Pollux's guidance we make good time - remarkable time, if you compare it to our aboveground travel. After about six hours, fatigue takes over. It's three in the morning and they surely won't know we aren't dead yet. When I suggest we rest, no one objects. Pollux finds a small, warm room humming with machines loaded with levers and dials. He holds up his fingers to indicate we must be gone in four hours. Boggs works out a guard schedule, and, since I'm not on the first shift, I wedge myself in the tight space between Gale and Cashmere and go right to sleep.

Shortly before seven, Pollux and I move among the others, rousing them. There are the usual yawns and sighs that accompany waking. But my ears are picking up something else, too. Almost like a hissing. Perhaps it's only steam escaping a pipe or the far-off whoosh of one of the trains...

I hush the group to get a better read on it. There's a hissing, yes, but it's not one extended sound. More like multiple exhalations that form words. A single word. Echoing throughout the tunnels. One word. One name. Repeated over and over again.

"Primrose."

The grace period has ended. Perhaps Snow had them digging through the night. As soon as the fire died down, anyway. They found Jackson's remains, briefly felt reassured, and then, as the hours went by without further trophies, began to suspect. At some point, they realized that they had been tricked. And President Snow can't tolerate being made to look like a fool. It doesn't matter whether they tracked us to the second apartment or assumed we went directly underground. They know we are down here now and they've unleashed something, a pack of mutts probably, bent on finding me.

Take in the anxious faces around me. "Whatever it is, it's after me. It might be a good time to split up."

"But we're your guard," says Boggs.

"And your crew," adds Cressida.

"I'm not leaving you," Gale says.

It's settled, and once again, we're running. We've covered a good distance when the screams start coming. Thick, guttural, echocing in the tunnels. The avoxes. The mutts'll kill anyone in their way. We keep moving.

The hissing is growing louder and a stench of roses comes with it, so strong I almost gag. I grab Pollux's arm. "Forget the mission. What's the quickest way aboveground?"

There's no time for checking the Holo. We follow Pollux for about ten yards along the Transfer and go through a doorway. I'm aware of tile changing to concrete, of crawling through a tight, stinking pipe onto a ledge about a foot wide. We're in the main sewer. A yard below, a poisonous brew of human waste, garbage, and chemical runoff bubbles by us. Parts of the surface are on fire, others emit evil-looking clouds of vapor. One look tells you that if you fall in, you're never coming out. Moving as quickly as we dare on the slippery ledge, we make our way to a narrow bridge and cross it. In an alcove at the far side, Pollux smacks a ladder with his hand and points up the shaft. This is it. Our way out.

A quick glance at our party tells me something's off. "Wait! Where are Homes and Cashmere?"

"They stayed behind to hold the mutts back," says Boggs.

"What?" I'm lunging back for the bridge, willing to leave no one to those monsters, when he yanks me back.

"Don't waste their lives, Prim. It's too late for them. Look!" Homes nods to the pipe, where the mutts are slithering onto the ledge.

"Stand back!" Gale shouts. With his explosive-tipped arrows, he rips the far side of the bridge from its foundation. The rest sinks into the bubbles, just as the mutts reach it.

For the first time, I get a good look at them. A mix of human and lizard and who knows what else. White, tight reptilian skin smeared with gore, clawed hands and feet, their faces a mess of conflicting features. Hissing, shrieking my name now, as their bodies contort in rage. Lashing out with tails and claws, taking huge chunks of one another or their own bodies with wide, lathered mouths, driven mad by their need to destroy me. My scent must be as evocative to them as theirs is to me. More so, because despite its toxicity, the mutts begin to throw themselves into the foul sewer.

Along our bank, everyone opens fire. Boggs shoves me towards the ladder and I begin climbing blindly, following Pollux until we reach open space. I'm shaking, retching up everything in my stomach. Gale is shouting, loosing another arrow in the sewer and dragging Boggs out. I don't understand why they're struggling that much until I jump forward and see the mutt clinging to him. Cressida reacts faster than I can, ramming a knife into the thing's skull. Together, we help him off the ladder. Then Boggs is repeating 'nightlock' three times and dropping the Holo into the sewer to take out the remaining mutts. Pollux slams the lid shut, the explosion rocking the ground under our feet.

I wipe my mouth and look at my squad. Boggs, Gale, Castor, Cressida and Pollux. We're all that's left.


	49. Chapter 49

"Messalla?"I ask, even though I realise there's no hope. Boggs shakes his head."Those things got a hold of him. I couldn't get to him."  
"But you dropped the Holo-" I break off. I can't really fault him for that decision. I close my eyes and nod."It was kinder that way."

There's a few seconds of silence as we all attempt to work through what just happened. Then Cressida brings us back on track."We have to keep moving. And we'd better find some disguises first. All of Panem would recognize you people." She pauses, then shrugs."And half the Capitol me, I guess."

_We can head up here_, Pollux says, indicating another ladder, of somewhat nicer make than the previous one. _It should take us into an apartment._

Stinking of sewage the way we do, I'm sure we need a shower as much as a disguise, but there isn't really much to be done about that.

Once up the ladder, Boggs signals for us to stick back while he checks the aprtment. He returns mere minutes later."It's clear. Come on."

"How long do you think we have before they figure out some of us could've survived?"Gale asks.

"I think they could be here anytime," Boggs answers. "They knew we were heading for the streets. Probably the explosion will throw them for a few minutes, then they'll start looking for our exit point."

First thing we do is get everyone's wounds as fixed up as we can manage on what little time and supplies we have. The stitches I put in Castor's neck are provisonal at best and Boggs should really be in surgery - I dig out two of the mutts teeth from his leg and there's not enough skin left to even attempt stitches. Still, it's not as if we have any other choice.

I go to a window that overlooks the street, and when I peek through the blinds, I'm not faced with Peacekeepers but with a bundled crowd of people going about their business. During our underground journey, we have left the evacuated zones far behind and surfaced in a busy section of the Capitol.

"There's enough clothes for all of us here,"Cressida says, and we all start putting together our disguises. As I'm rebraiding my hair to better stuff it under a wig, I turn to Boggs."Why are we still heading towards the mansion?"

It's where I want to head but the price we have paid so far...

"We're in danger no matter where we go,"Boggs says softly, apparently guessing why I asked."We might manage to join up with rebelforces this way; and possibly find Soldiers Mason and Kentwell."

I perk up at that."So you think they're still alive?"

"I think it's too early to give up,"he replies."But for now we best just keep moving."

I nod, continuing to layer on my disguise. Before long, we're all ready to go.

"Stay together," Boggs says at the front door. Then we march right into the street. Snow flurries have begun to fall. Agitated people swirl around us, speaking of rebels and hunger and me in their affected Capitol accents. We cross the street, pass a few more apartments. Just as we turn the corner, three dozen Peacekeepers sweep past us. We hop out of their way, as the real citizens do, wait until the crowd returns to its normal flow, and keep moving. "Cressida," I whisper. "Can you think of anywhere?"

"I'm trying," she says.

We cover another block, and the sirens begin. Through an apartment window, I see an emergency report and pictures of our faces flashing. They haven't identified who in our party died yet, because I see Messalla and Cashmere among the photos. Soon every passerby will be as dangerous as a Peacekeeper. "Cressida?"

"There's one place. It's not ideal. But we can try it," she says. We follow her a few more blocks and turn through a gate into what looks like a private residence. It's some kind of shortcut, though, because after walking through a manicured garden, we come out of another gate onto a small back street that connects two main avenues. There are a few poky stores - one that buys used goods, another that sells fake jewelry. Only a couple of people are around, and they pay no attention to us. Cressida begins to babble in a high-pitched voice about fur undergarments, how essential they are during the cold months. "Wait until you see the prices! Believe me, it's half what you pay on the avenues!"

We stop before a grimy storefront filled with mannequins in furry underwear. The place doesn't even look open, but Cressida pushes through the front door, setting off a dissonant chiming. Inside the dim, narrow shop lined with racks of merchandise, the smell of pelts fills my nose. Business must be slow, since we're the only customers. Cressida heads straight for a hunched figure sitting in the back. I follow, trailing my fingers through the soft garments as we go.

Behind a counter sits the strangest person I've ever seen. She's an extreme example of surgical enhancement gone wrong, for surely not even in the Capitol could they find this face attractive. The skin has been pulled back tightly and tattooed with black and gold stripes. The nose has been flattened until it barely exists. I've seen cat whiskers on people in the Capitol before, but none so long. The result is a grotesque, semi-feline mask, which now squints at us distrustfully.

Cressida takes off her wig, revealing her vines. "Tigris," she says. "We need help."

After a few seconds of pressing silence, Cressida adds,"Plutarch said you could be trusted."

Tigris peers at us, as if trying to figure us out. I step forward and pull off my wig and unwrap the scarf from my face.

She slinks down off her stool and disappears behind a rack of fur-lined leggings. There's a sound of sliding, and then her hand emerges and waves us forward. Boggs goes first and I follow right behind. It's a small cellar with no doors or windows. Shallow and wide. Probably just a strip between two real basements. A place whose existence could go unnoticed unless you had a very keen eye for dimensions. It's cold and dank, with piles of pelts that I'm guessing haven't seen the light of day in years. Unless Tigris gives us up, I don't believe anyone will find us here.

At the end of the cellar, there's a faucet about a foot from the floor with a drain under it. I turn the tap and, after much sputtering and a lot of rust, clear water begins to flow. I check everyone's wounds, starting with Boggs. He is horribly pale and his bandage is completely soaked through. I don't see how we can keep him moving any further without killing him.

We make a bed of pelts, strip off his layers of weapons, and help him onto his back. I make a tourniquet for him after debating with myself over it. It might kill the leg. If I don't do it, he'd probably bleed out. I give him a painkiller and wipe the sweat of his brow. He's only barely concious and I can't imagine the effort it must have cost him to keep upright until now."You can sleep. It's okay."

Cressida and Pollux have made beds for us, arranged our food and medical supplies. With Boggs out like a light, we turn to Gale for what to do. He looks about as exhausted as I feel as he runs his hands through his hair."I don't honestly think there's any point in setting up a guard. Let's just try to get some sleep."

We all nod somewhat numbly and burrow into our pelts.

I slip into an uneasy, nightmare-riddled sleep. Cashmere reminds me she wanted to see Snow choke on his own blood, then says she'll settle for me instead. Messalla reprimands her about the bad lighting as she picks over an assortment of knives that I recognise as Clove's. I try to tell them I'm sorry, but it won't come out. Then they're gone and Olive is leading me through a mine, only she keeps disappearing. Just when I think we're almost out, I wake with a start. I'm more exhausted than when I fell asleep.

Cressida tells me it's late afternoon, and Gale hands me a can of lamb stew. The others are still asleep, or in Boggs's likely unconcious. I bite my lip, my hand on his forehead."He's burning up. There's no way he can keep moving."

"So what do we do?"Gale asks. I barely manage to stop myself from breaking down in tears."I don't know."

"Wait it all out?"Cressida suggests, though I can tell the mere suggestions rankles. I would like to stay here, actually, not see any more of the horrors of war. But we don't have that kind of time. _Boggs_ doesn't have that kind of time. I shake my head."No. We go kill Snow. We have to end it."

Once everyone is awake, we decide that Castor will stay with Boggs. He isn't thrilled with that, but he's in the worst state out of the rest of us, and we need someone to take care of Boggs.

Tigris calls us up to share what little food she has, and we learn the Capitol has figured out that we six have survived. That just makes us only moving on with four of us even more plausible. Tigirs fills us in on the advances the rebels have made and the evacuation. When I peek out through the blinders, I see masses of people on the move.

We're as rested as we'll ever be, so we decide we will head out, hidden among the refugees. Tigris agrres to keep Boggs and Castor as safe as she can manage. Then she spends the next hour remaking the four of us that will head into the streets. She redresses us so regular clothes hide our uniforms before we even don our coats and cloaks. Covers our military boots with some sort of furry slippers. Secures our wigs with pins. Cleans off the garish remains of the paint we so hastily applied to our faces and makes us up again. Drapes our outerwear to conceal our weapons. Then gives us handbags and bundles of knickknacks to carry. In the end, we look exactly like the refugees fleeing the rebels.

"Never underestimate the power of a brilliant stylist," I say. It's hard to tell, but I think Tigris might actually blush under her stripes.

I barely manage to rouse Boggs long enough to tell him I'll be back for him. He takes a hold of my arm, shaking his head, but is so weak he couldn't hope to hold me back."Don't, Prim. Stay safe."

"I'll stay alive,"I tell him, forgetting for a moment that it isn't him who always tells me so. Haymitch's face flashes through my mind, then Dad's. I shake it off. Now's not the time to get sidetracked."You just stay alive, too, yeah?"

He's passed out again before I even make it to the stairs.

We all check we have our nightlock tablets in reach. Then we move out. Cressida and Pollux are ahead of Gale and I, acting as guides but keeping a safe distance.

We make it pretty far into the city center before the bullets start raining down. The rebels are here, all right. Pouring onto the avenue, taking cover in doorways, behind vehicles, guns blazing, hoarse voices shouting commands as they prepare to meet an army of Peacekeepers marching toward us. Caught in the cross fire are the refugees, unarmed, disoriented, many wounded. A pod's activated ahead of us, releasing a gush of steam that parboils everyone in its path, leaving the victims intestine-pink and very dead. After that, what little sense of order there was unravels. As the remaining curlicues of steam intertwine with the snow, visibility extends just to the end of my barrel. Peacekeeper, rebel, citizen, who knows? Everything that moves is a target.

I'm screaming, wordlessly, running, not looking at what I stumble over at every step, willing myself to pretend it's debris, staggering on, Gale dragging me further every time I falter, and I can't stop screaming. This is the Games amplified by a thousand. I can't even hear myself, but my throat is already hoarse.

Then we're in the City Circle. It's full of people milling around, wailing, or just sitting and letting the snow pile up around them. I fit right in. I begin to weave my way across to the mansion, tripping over abandoned treasures and snow-frosted limbs. About halfway there, I become aware of the concrete barricade. It's about four feet high and extends in a large rectangle in front of the mansion. You would think it would be empty, but it's packed with refugees. Maybe this is the group that's been chosen to be sheltered at the mansion?

Cressida is suddenly there again, and she slaps me across the face without a word. I fall silent, and can start to think again. Everyone inside that barricade is a child. Toddlers to teenagers. Scared and frostbitten. Huddled in groups or rocking numbly on the ground. They aren't being led into the mansion. They're penned in, guarded on all sides by Peacekeepers. I know immediately it's not for their protection. If the Capitol wanted to safeguard them, they'd be down in a bunker somewhere. This is for Snow's protection. The children form his human shield."They're handing kids to the front. They still think they'll open the gates for them. Maybe he will."

Because then he can keep them so close to his person that no one would dare fire a gun in his general direction. Gale understands instantly."No. Prim, don't even think about it."

But Cressida is already hoisting me up and forward, and then Capitol refugees pass me along with their own children. I'm small for my age, and it finally comes in handy. When I drop down among the other children, no one spares me a second glance, even as I move closer and closer to the gates.

That's when the hovercraft appears above us and the parachutes start floating down.

_)o(_

_This story is so almost over I will miss it so much someone hold me (two more chaptersO_O)  
_


	50. Chapter 50

Time seems to slow down so much it could stop just aswell.

All around me, children reach towards the gifts. I'm frozen in place, staring up at the silver containers as they glide downwards, my own hand half-raised. It seems like another dream, another nightmare. Then an arrow connects with one of the parachutes midair and it explodes.

A vague memory of Beetee and Gale and humming birds pushes itself into my mind as I throw myself down and take cover, dragging the nearest kids to the ground with me. There's screaming everywhere and more explosions above us. The heat on my back is unbearable as the fireballs errupt mere metres from us. Peacekeepers and rebells alike are taking the small bombs out still in the air, but some make it down. The barricades are torn down and the children are crying and begging and running and bleeding and there's those for whom every help comes to late.

There is panic and death all around, refugees and medics streaming in to rescue those that still breath. Someone tears my burning jacket of me and pulls me to my feet, telling me I need to let go. Only then do I realise I'm still clutching onto the boy next to me, and he's not reacting. A piece of shrapnel is embeded in his neck.

"I can help him,"I say, but they pull him away. I wind out of the medic's grasp and turn back towards the gates. Getting there was the last concious decision I made, and a part of me thinks that as long as I keep moving, everything will be okay.

The fire has stopped raining down, and attention is shifting elsewhere. People are screaming for Snow's blood. Peacekeepers turn to drag down the gates to the mansion.

I move with them, squeezing through as soon as the gap is big enough, ignoring the shouts behind me. I'm running at full tilt towards the mansion. Before I can even begin to wonder how I will get the massive mahogany doors open, they swing apart.

Covered in filth from days in the sewers, blood and gore riddling every part of them, Johanna and Olive stagger into the open. One of them - in their state, it's hard to tell who, but I think it's Johanna - is missing most of her right arm. Their teeth are disturbingly visible, almost too white against the grime on their faces, bared in more snarl than smile.

Everyone freezes and stares.

Then Olive raises her hands in the gesture of victory those from Two always use, and Johanna yanks up her remaining arm, Snow's head danling from her hand by his hair.

A savage cheer runs through the crowd.

* * *

I wake up with a pounding in my head and a horribly dry mouth. I have vague memories of drifting in and out of conciousness for some time but I couldn't say how long I've been out. I'm lying on my stomach in what I assume must be a hospital bed. Most of my back doesn't hurt much which makes me quite nervous. It should hurt, and badly, unless the burns are actually severe enough to damage my subcutis and pain receptors. I blink and push myself up as high as I can manage.

"Hello, sweetheart,"Effie greets me."I sent your mother off to get some sleep. How are you feeling?"

I try to talk but only a rasping sound comes out. Effie helps me sit up properly and gives me some water. After taking a few sips I clear my throat and try again."Okay, I guess. So it's all over?"

Effie nods."Most of it. There's some trials now and such things." She waves her hand dismissively, but there's a glint of worry in her eyes.

I don't press the subject. Whatever regime Coin is busy setting up, it's not likely to be much kinder than the one we just overthrew. Talking about it right now has no point.

I look around the room in search of another subject. There's a girl of about four curled up in an armchair near the door, fast asleep and her red hair disheveled. I raise an eyebrow at Effie."Who's the kid?"

She smiles at me sadly."Arianna. Emmanuel's daughter. He managed to put her in hiding before -" She trails off and shakes her head."I found her two days ago. No one seems to know what happened to her mother. I'm her legal guardian for now. We're trying to get permanent custody."

I accept that with a nod, slowly sinking back onto the bed. I can't believe sitting up could be this exhausting."Is Boggs all right?"

"He's fine,"Effie assures me."They're already fitting him for a prosthetic leg."

I nod, thinking I should go see him, but before that idea is fully formed, I'm already drifting off again.

* * *

Mum's spreading copious amounts of burn ointment on my back when the knock on the door comes. The war has been over for weeks but now they apparently have need of me again. At least they give me enough of a heads up that I can get properly dressed. I spent most of my time in a hospital gown. Mum has to help me into the clothes as if I'm a toddler. I can't lift my arms properly, the puckered, pink skin on my back protests at every wrong move. I debate myself on whether to ask her to braid my hair to cover up the bald spot at my nape. It's purpelish where the wig melted into my skin. I think of the ragged stump of Johanna's arm, of avoxed Gloss, of Boggs and his new prosthetic leg, and decide against it.

The room is already filled when Mum and I arrive, everyone seated at a long table.

Gloss, Haymitch, Enobaria, Finnick, Annie, Brutus, Lyme, Chaff, Beetee, Liz, Gaia and Johanna. Not an assortment of Victors that makes a lot of sense.

Then Olive, Madge, Katniss, Peeta, Sapphire, Glamour, Curie, Liz's niece Tia, Jonsa, and Demeter. My sister gives me a small, uncertain smile.

It takes me a moment to make a connection. We all survived the Games. But that doesn't explain why we've been assembled.  
"What's going on?" I direct the question at Haymitch. He shrugs."They got all the Victors together."  
My confusion must show at this because Jonsa helpfully elaborates, vaguely waving at her half of the table."They granted us Victor-status."  
But that wasn't what threw me. I look around the room and realization dawns."That's it? We're all that's left?"

_All Victors left alive by the end of the war, _Coin said. Her smug smile comes back to me full force.

"The price of celebrity," says Beetee. "We were targeted from both sides. The Capitol killed the victors they suspected of being rebels. The rebels killed those thought to be allied with the Capitol."

Coin follows me into the room, Boggs and Tinko right behind her. Coin raises her eyebrows at my mother's presence, but then she simply shrugs it off."I've asked you here to settle a debate. Snow is dead. In the previous weeks, hundreds of his accomplices in the oppression of Panem have been tried and now await their own deaths. However, the suffering in the districts has been so extreme that these measures appear insufficient to the victims. In fact, many are calling for a complete annihilation of those who held Capitol citizenship. However, in the interest of maintaining a sustainable population, we cannot afford this."

I catch Haymitch's eyes as she talks. He looks about as nervous as I feel.

"So, an alternative has been placed on the table. Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus, it has been agreed that we will let the victors decide. A majority will approve the plan. No one may abstain from the vote," says Coin. "What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power."

"What?" says Johanna.

"We hold another Hunger Games using Capitol children," says Coin.

"Are you joking?" asks Peeta.

"No. I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security," Coin tells us.

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" asks Haymitch.

"It was mine," says Coin. "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

"No!"Finnick bursts out."No, you can't even think of that!"

"Why not?" Johanna retorts. "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

"Cassandra's eleven,"I say. It's absolutely beside the point, but I say it anyway. Enobaria shrugs."So what? We have to get it all set up first, anyways. She'll be old enough."

"That wasn't her point,"Annie says."Right, Prim?"

"Right,"I echo."We can't have another Hunger Games. It's sick to even talk about this."

Lyme leans towards Coin across the table, looking almost disinterested."What gives you the right to propose such an idea?"

"I am the president,"she replies. Lyme cocks her head to the side."Strange. I don't seem to remember voting."

"In a war situation, an emergency government -"

"Thing is,"Lyme cuts her off,"We're no longer in a war situation. Are we?"

I get up at this, internally thanking Lyme for thinking of this. Sidetracking this insane conversation."Lyme's right. How about we hold that vote first? And then see what the President has to say."

Coin obviously catches the implication that it won't be her, her mouth thinning into a line."I have allowed you free reign in many things, Soldier Everdeen. Do not test me. You Victors have no actual authority."

"Unless you want us to cover your ass, that is,"I point out."We're not going to back you in an election. Why should we back you on this?" I don't give her a chance to reply."I was the face of your cause. I won't be the face of your campaign. It'll make people wonder."

"Unless they don't see you. No one knows how severe your burns really were." Her voice is soft, calm, and reminds me of Snow far too much. Not that he usually threatend me with my own death as she is doing now. A few Victors get to their feet at the insinuation, and Coin pulls her gun almost lazily. I swallow hard but don't back down. I've had more guns pointed at me than most people. I can handle it. I'd rather have her shoot me than allow another Hunger Games.

"You can't kill us all,"Johanna says. Coin smirks, not taking her eyes of me. If she had, she would have noticed Boggs stepping away from her side, ready to act. Tinko's gaze is flicking around the room, uncertain where his loyalties should lie.

"Maybe I don't have to,"Coin remarks. I steel myself, drawing in a deep breath."If the choices are the Games or you shooting me, you will have to shoot me."

The gunshot echoes through the room before anyone can say anything else.

A few things register at once, like flashes that don't really connect in my mind.

The round mark on Coin's forehead, looking surprisingly innocent.

Boggs's empty gunholster.

My mother, pale and shaking.

She lowers the gun slowly. As if surprised to find it in her hand at all. I try to speak but nothing comes out. I don't know what I could say anyways.

Annie is covering her ears, Katniss is mumbling about mutts under her breath, Madge has an oddly serene smile on her face.

Boggs is the first to actually speak."Marigold, give me the gun, dear."

And suddenly, Olive starts laughing like a madwoman, gets up and hugs my mother."That was brilliant, Mrs E. Bloody brilliant."

It might just be the most inappropriate reaction you could possibly have but I feel laughter bubbling up in my own chest. It spreads through us Victors, from soft, unsure giggle – Jonsa – to roaring, tabling-slapping boom – Brutus – to tears in the eyes, barely even making a sound anymore cackle – Johanna.

Haymitch gets up and locks the door, calmly returning to the table."So. We'd best figure out how to play this to the public."

_)o(_

_lbr Coin always overestimated herself tbh_

_also she was pokering here the fucking nerd_

_I don't think I've ever written anything involving Coin that didn't end in violence lmao_

_last chapter will be up on sunday as per usual xx_


	51. Chapter 51

_Warning to the lactose intolerant: extremely cheesy  
_

_)o(_

I look down at my hands as Plutarch speaks, not really listening to a word he says. It's mainly lies, anyway. All I have to do is keep my face schooled into a solemn look while he gives Coin's eulogy. The heroic leader who brought us all peace, tragically murdered by a last remaining Capitol loyalist.

Very, very sad. But I guess Coin got that matyr she was always hoping for.

* * *

We all leave the Capitol within days of the funeral. I think Plutarch wanted us out of his hair to arrange the election for a new president. Whatever the reason, I'm glad to be allowed to leave.

Victor's Village becomes quite crowded, and it's absolutely wonderful. We're a cobbled together community that feels more like family than neighbours.

Peeta and his brothers start baking again, Katniss and Gale take up hunting together, and the whole Village ends up having most meals together. It's times like this that give me hope that all of Panem might be okay, one day. We're all from completely different backgrounds yet here we are.

"Do I use one fork for everything?"Arianna asks perplexed, the first time we all get together.

"Where do I turn in leftovers?"Bane wants to know once he's done.

"Can we really have one each?"Posy says, eyes wide in wonder as Peeta brings out freshly baked cupcakes.

Still, they're instant friends, the way only small children can.

* * *

We're all still piecing ourselves together.

There's times when Katniss will spend days at a time at Madge's or Peeta's because she doesn't trust herself in the same house with me.

Sometimes I'll look out the window at night and see Peeta sleeping on his porch, since even with all windows open, he feels trapped inside a room.

I still have marks on my arms and wake up screaming.

But day by day, week by week, we get better.

* * *

Six months after we left the Capitol, President Paylor invites me to the unveiling of the first memorial for the fallen tributes. They chose to start with my arena, since it was those Games that gave them their Mockingjay.

I spend hours on the phone with Olive, days debating it with Peeta, trying to figure out whether I should go. Then, Katniss reaches out to squeeze my hand."I'll come with you, little duck. If you want."

It's been so long since she called me that I start crying. But I decide I can bare it with her there.

Paylor warned me she invited all families of the tributes, but I still don't feel prepared. Nero greets me happily, his mother gives me a smile but sticks back when she sees the look on her daughter's face. Tulia hasn't forgiven me, and I can't say I blame her.

Thresh's sister and mine strike up conversation. Olive drags Johanna to the demolished remains of the Cornucopia and they sit in the grass without speaking until the event is over. Peeta gets on surprisingly well with Marvel's little brother.

Toby is extremely happy to finally get to speak to me. Rue's oldest sister, Heather, joins us but barely speaks. We hold hands for most of the ceremony. The other kids, their parents decided, are too young to be allowed to come here.

We stay in touch from then on.

* * *

I don't know when I started referring to Boggs as my dad. In fact, I didn't realise I was doing it unitl Aurelius points it out to me at Madge and Gale's wedding. He grins at me over his champagne."I told you so three years ago."

"So what?"I say. I don't really know what to tell him. I'm not sure what to think of it myself, now that I'm actually aware of it. Nero simply rolls his eyes, but he does it with a fond smile."Just say 'Relius, you were right. You're always right and you're a genius'. I'm serious. If you don't tell him he's right he'll keep banging on about it."

"It's not my fault you're always wrong, dear,"Aurelius says and turns to me expectantly."So?"

"You were right, Relius,"I say as I push my chair away from the table."Now, I'd best get back to my family."

Warmth spreads through my entire body as I make my way towards them. My mum, my sister, my little brother and my dad.

* * *

"What?"I say into the phone, not entirely sure I heard right. I can practically hear Olive roll her eyes on the other end of the line."Be my maid of honour. It's pretty straight forward, honestly, woman."

"You want me to be your maid of honour?"I repeat, although she has stated it pretty clearly. Twice."I mean, yes, totally, I'd be thrilled. But - and don't get me wrong - I kinda assumed you'd head to the Capitol and get one of those drunken eloping type marriages."

Olive laughs at that."I know, right? We're growing up."She pauses for a moment."Also, my mum would straight-up murder us both if we did that."

"And what about Nero?"I say.

"Well, he's my best man, obviously,"she says."But since Jo decided she wants Finnick _and _Effie, I decided I'm getting a second in there, too."

"Gee, now I feel really honoured,"I shoot back. I'm smiling for the rest of the day, though.

* * *

I'm twenty-four by the time I actually get to vote in a presidental election the first time. Since you have to be twenty-one for that and they serve four year long terms, I missed the last three. I backed Paylor both times she ran, though. A District Ten rebel leader served the term after her, but decided not to run for a second time. Not that I would have considered voting for him, anyways. Not with Madge in the running.

In the end, she wins by a landslide. Posy makes me dye her hair in her party's colours for inauguration day, and is thrilled to find she started a trend in the Capitol.

Johanna calls Gale the first lady all day long. He's less then thrilled when that catches on, too.

* * *

I wipe my sweaty hands on my skirt, redoing my pinned updo for the fifth time. My heart is racing more than it should. Rory steps up and presses a kiss against my temple."Relax, Primmie. It's okay. There's no more reapings, remember?"

I nod and laugh shakily."It still doesn't feel real sometimes."

"I know,"he mumbles, resting his chin on my shoulder."But Willow doesn't know it any other way and we don't want to ruin her birthday, do we?"

Every twelfth birthday in our circle has been attended by adults so tense they might be going to war instead. Posy's was too close to the war, Peetra's was a reminder of the fight to ensure she never, not one day, feared a reaping. Annie and Finn's Milo was not born until after the war and we still found a way to be uncomfortable when he turned twelve. It was the same for Elsa Hawthorne and for her younger twin brothers. It was the same for the oldest of the Kentwell-Mason girls. It was the same for every kid so far, and it'll be the same for every one of the kids with their twelfth brithday still to come.

I suppose it's just a sick habbit by now. Or because it makes all the memories rise up again, the ones we keep at bay as best we can. Whatever the reason, we all have to work very hard on those days to keep it together.

But I don't want to ruin my niece's birthday, so I call up the stairs."Ambrose! Rueben! Come on, we're leaving!"

"We're in the middle of a game,"my eldest shouts back. I roll my eyes at Rory, and with a smirk he pulls our trumpcard."Uncle Peeta baked the cake himself!"

The boys are down the stairs and out the house so fast we actually have to hurry to catch up with them.

_)o(_

_I honestly can't believe it's over_

_three years ago today I posted the very first chapter of Everybody's darling and now we're here_

_thank you so much to all of you wonderful people who read and reviewed and added the stories to your faves and followed_

_I'm so overwhelmed by all the support_

_I really don't think I'll be able to wrap my head around being finished with this story..._

_[I might still write some for the OS collections, actually, as I still owe a requested Gadge. and also I can't go from so involved to done tbh]_

_I love you all, my darlings! xx_


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